


Gladers on the barricades

by saigaday



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saigaday/pseuds/saigaday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was lying in bed this morning and I was like you know what would be cool if the maze runner took place in revolutionary France. So I wrote it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

-Thomas-

"Please, Tommy Please"

Thomas fluttered on the edge of consciousness as those three words repeated over and over. They sounded distraught but at the same time they were so gentle and soft. Thomas' heart stirred at their beckoning and a numbing coolness crept up his nervous system as his body began to reconnect. He felt his toes and fingers wiggle into existence suspended in a chilly embrace. They were so cold, he doubted if they would move if he tried. His whole body felt surprisingly light as if it was being cradled by fine net of spider's silk causing the tension to ooze out of him. There was something familiar feeling about the supportive coolness that enwrapped his body and his mind struggled to place it. His ears fixed on a trickling sound behind him as if his mother had left the tap on.

Wetness! That's what this sensation was. He must be floating in a pool of some kind. His thoughts wandered to why he was wet and what body of water he was in. He sincerely hoped it wasn't the ocean as sharks lived there. Is he at risk of drowning, he pondered. Suddenly he became aware of a deep throbbing pain in his chest and he gasped for air.

"Aw poop! You're alive." A voice said.

Thomas eyes flung open and he saw that he was in fact in some kind of pool with a large pipe jutting out of the stone wall in front of him. Luckily it was not that deep and he was able to steady himself on his feet. The pain still seared through him and he clutched his chest for support. 

"You alright there buddy?" The voice inquired and Thomas turned to see a pudgy boy sitting on the ledge above him.

Thomas searched for his voice but his body was still very cold and he just ended up coughing. Eventually he managed to groan out "Clearly not..." 

"Sheashh," The boy grimaced, "Let's get you out of there, come on now."

Thomas coughed up a bit more water, or at least he hoped it was just water. "Ugh.. Was I drowning?"

"Not really sure what you were doing down there when I found you?"

"And you did nothing?"

"Well I've never seen a dead body before what do you expect me to do? Also I can't swim. Also that's a sewer. You are literally standing in shit." The boy said smugly

Thomas' nose kicked in to the foul stench that surrounded him and he reluctantly looked down to see that the water was filled with waste and he was coated in a black grime. "Aw shit! Get me out of here!"

"Hahahaha There are stairs over there."

Thomas took a deep breath and heaved himself onto the first step. This severely aggravated his injury and he had to rest a bit before climbing out of the sewer and on to the street above. The buildings were haggard looking structures that lined the cobblestoned street in a tight wall. In the distance looked to be a busier road as there were some people entering into a carriage.

"The name's Chuck." The boy said with a big grin on his face, "Come on let's get you cleaned up" And he began to lead Thomas through the street.

It was a struggle to keep pace with Chuck as his body was extremely weak and each step was quite painful. But eventually they pushed their way through the crowd to a fountain. Thomas practically fell in and let the water rinse away the muck that had begun to crust over. He lifted his shirt to examine where the throbbing pain was coming from and was relieved to see that there was no open wound. 

"Aw thank Christ!" he muttered, "That would have been a nasty infection."

"Jeebers that's a bad bruise." Chuck exclaimed and Thomas became aware that he was making quite the scene standing semi naked in public fountain, "What's your name by the way."

"Oh...ummm," Thomas racked his brain for some recognition of who he was but all was able to get was fragments and those three words (Please, Tommy, please). This was a concerning development. "Um I'm not quite sure I think it's like Tommy or Thomas or something."

"Geez what happened to you sir, rolling around in shit, not remembering your name, are you sure you're not a loony or a witch."

Thomas wasn't sure. All he knew was that someone once called him Tommy, he had a mother and he was afraid of sharks. That was not much to go on. Now he was injured and shit stained, standing in a public fountain in some medieval city with only a prepubescent boy to guide him.

"Do you know a doctor or something? I think I should get this looked after."

"I kind of do. But we should get moving I'm sure someone has called the city guard on us for using the fountain as a bathtub."

Chuck led Thomas through several alleys until they reached what appeared to be a tavern of some sort. It wasn't very well marked or lit but Thomas could definitely hear activity inside. They sped around the corner to a small green door and Chuck knocked thrice. 

A burly lad with a sour expression opened. 

"What are you doing Chuck?" he hissed as if the conversation was somehow secret and Thomas couldn't hear, but he could. "You know not to bring outsiders."  
"Give him a break, Gally. He's injured let me take him to Jeff." Chuck retorted.

"No way! He could jeopardize everything we do." Gally seemed quite stubborn. "I outrank you and this is totally against our code."

"What's against our code?" An even larger man appeared.

"Oh Alby, please don't get involved." Gally begged.

"What have you got here Chuck?" Alby ignored Gally's protestations.

"I found this guy lying unconscious in a sewer and he needs a med-jack. So I thought about Jeff and..."

"And nothing." Gally interrupted, "What if rats on us. We already have enough trouble with the Grievers."

"But I thought helping the people is what we are all about?" Chuck whimpered.

"He's got a point there." Alby injected. 

"But the Grievers.."

"Are the price we pay for trying to change things around here for the better. Look Gally I admire your concerns for our safety, but if we don't look after those in need what is the point of all our fighting." Gally seemed defeated and shuffled away.

"So does that mean we can keep him?" Chuck perked up.

"I dunno about keep, but we can definitely help or at least try to. Now go and get Jeff."

"Yes sir!" Chuck excitedly exclaimed before slipping behind Alby and running into the building.

"Now you can come with me." Alby gestured at Thomas and lead him down a tight hallway and into a large room filled with people. "Welcome to the Glade..."

"uh Thomas.." He blurted out.

"Welcome to the Glade, Thomas, your first stop in the fight against injustice."

"Woah..." Thomas was stunned by all the people crammed into the room looking at maps and supplies, engaging in debates and eating, everyone was eating. "What do you guys do here?"

"Simply put we help people." Alby replied with a smirk. "People such as yourself. Now if you would step through this door our lovely med-jack will do his best to get you fixed up."

Thomas entered the room to see Chuck talking wildly with another boy who was rummaging through a medical bag. 

"Thomas!" Chuck yelled, "Show Jeff your bruise. It's massive."

The boy stuck his hand out to shake, "I'm Jeff, and I'm here to help. Chuck tells me you were in the sewers."

"Apparently" 

"Well then you'll need to get cleaned up proper after this. Chuck can you prepare a bath and get some clean clothes for him?"

"Yes sir!" And Chuck scurried out a back door.

"So let's see this bruise Chuck was so excited by." Jeff said calmly.

Thomas took off his shirt to reveal the injury that covered a good third of his chest.

"Yowza! I have to admit that is quite the bruise. You must have taken quite the walloping. Luckily there doesn't appear to be any open wound which means you shouldn't get infected."

"Yeah I saw that. Doesn't stop the pain though"

"I can imagine. I'm going to check for internal damage is it alright if I touch you."

"Go ahead." Thomas grimaced as Jeff's hands lightly felt his chest. They were warm and gentle but he was still really sensitive.

When Jeff had finished he had determined that Thomas had fractured two ribs. "Not bad for what it looks like."

"It still hurts."

"It'll get better, you just need rest." Jeff smiled and Thomas couldn't help but return the gesture. "Speaking of rest, Chuck mentioned you are experiencing memory loss. Do you know of a safe place where you can heal?"

Thomas had almost forgot about that detail. These people were being so nice he hadn't realized that he knew next to nothing outside of them. Did he have a house? A family he could go to?

"Um... not sure."

"Hmm the loss is that extensive. What do you remember?"

"Ha.. nothing really. I guess my name but I'm not even sure about that."  
"Fascinating!" Jeff said excitedly, "Opps I'm sorry that must be really frustrating I just have never encountered anything like this. I would love to study your experience further. But first you need a place to rest. Go clean up and I will talk to leadership for you."

"Oh..kay" Thomas said unsure of his future. Jeff led him to a bathroom where Chuck had attempted to fold clothes.

Jeff disappeared so Thomas disrobed and lowered himself into the water, immersing himself in the sensation of wetness once more. Luckily this time there was no shit and he had some privacy to process all that happened. It was weird, a lot of knowledge was still available to him. Like he understood what a bath was and that he was in some kind of tavern in a old fashioned city. He just had no sense of self, or at least past self. None of this information felt connected to him. Not only that but everything felt older like it wasn't how it was supposed to feel. The bath looked antique, the building felt historic and the city resembled something from the seventeenth or eighteenth century. Maybe this was all just a symptom of amnesia, without a sense of self his knowledge and experience had become disjointed. Whatever the case he wished he found something grounding soon because all this confusion was nauseating.

Once the smell of shit had reached a more tolerable level and his skin was nice and pruney he dried himself off and attempted to put on the clothes Chuck had left him. They fit or at least he thought they fit he just wasn't entirely sure how to wear them. He fussed over it until he found the most comfortable position and then peaked out the door.

Leaning against the opposite wall was a lean boy with radiant blonde hair. His face was ridiculously youthful and made him look no older than Chuck although his height suggested otherwise. Something about him looked oddly familiar and Thomas furrowed his brow trying to recall exactly what. 

"Do I have something on my face or are you loopier than everyone's been saying?" The boy asked. At the sound of his voice something in Thomas' mind clicked and the strength just gave away from underneath him. He was unconscious in seconds. "Guess it must be the latter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not the proper response when someone faints. Fainting should not lead to exposition. If someone faints around you, do not move them or debate with your friends. Keep them in a secure and safe position and monitor their breathing. If they do not regain consciousness within four minutes call an ambulance. If they stop breathing commence CPR and have someone call an ambulance. In the process of fainting they could have injured themselves, That is why it is best not to move them as you could aggravate any injuries especially if they have a potential spinal injury.

-Newt-

"Oh my god you killed him!" Chuck screamed as he came running down the hallway.

"Whoa whoa calm yourself." Newt said as he grabbed onto Chuck, who was beginning to cry himself into hysteria. "He just fainted, okay, he's going to be fine. Calm the shuck down."

Chuck slowly began to quiet and tried to regain his breath. "Really? He looks so dead."

"Apparently he's quite good at that." Newt laughed a little and Chuck seemed to relax, "Now can you help me pick him up"

"Okay...." Chuck lumbered over and began nudging his head.

"What's the commotion?" Gally asked frantically as he appeared at the top of the stairs. p>

"Nothing, I just startled the new guy and he bloody well and fainted." Newt said dismissively, as Gally could be a handful at times like these.

"Oh shiet. I told you not to bring him in here. Not even an hour and he's up to no good." Gally chided Chuck.

"It's wasn't my fault." Chuck retorted, tears still in his eyes.

"Gally I don't have time for this. Will you help me get him up?"

"But..."

"Just do it okay. You can bring your concerns to tonight's meeting. Now help me lift him. Chuck can you go tell Alby to meet me in five minutes." Chuck nodded and left. Gally still didn't move.

"Well come on then." Newt was losing his patience but Gally finally complied. They each took an end and hoisted Thomas into the air.

"Where are we taking him then?"

"I dunno someone quiet. Let's just take him to my room. He'll be easier to monitor there."

And so they slowly maneuvered through the labyrinth of hallways and stairs that made up the core of the Glade. Until at last they made it to the attic room that was Newt's. Gally plopped him on the ground and stormed off without a word. Not that Newt minded he was glad for the privacy.

His head had be swimming ever since they had made eye contact. There was just something about Thomas that felt different like he was triggering something long forgotten. Clearly the other had felt it too as he had fainted within seconds of meeting.

"Who are you, you little buggar?" He mumbled to himself as Thomas lay there lightly breathing. Despite coming from the bath, his skin was extremely pale and his hair lay limp as if he was fading from reality. Newt noticed that Thomas was wearing his clothes in the most unusual fashion and he held in a giggle. Feeling Thomas' forehead he could tell that the bath had not done enough to raise the poor boy's temperature so hr grabbed some extra blankets and tucked Thomas in tightly trying to preserve heat. 

He heard the door behind him creak open. Newt could tell it was Alby by the creaks his feet made as he stepped closer.

"How is our little greenie? I hear you gave him quite the scare."

Newt gave a soft chuckle to that, "Quite a scare? I said like three words and he fainted."

"Those must have been some powerful words." Despite what most of the gladers thought Alby was much less serious if you got to know him and even had quite the sense of humour.

"Alby, what are we going to do about him?"

"The best we can"

"Some of the gladers are not going to like that." Newt thought about trying to explain this to Gally at the meeting tonight.

"Yeah. But we've gotten a bit lazy haven't we. The gladers are supposed to be a symbol of justice and yet we haven't had a rally in months. We hardly even feed the poor anymore."

"It's hard to feed the poor when we are the poor." Newt gave a lazy smirk

"You know what I mean. We can do more."

"Let's keep him then. Jeff says he's got nowhere else to go, and I dunno I got a feeling he could be useful." Newt felt that weird fluttering in his gut again.

"Getting sentimental now?" Alby grinned, "Fine, but he's in your care. It'll be hard enough trying to convince everyone to restart our fight, I don't want to have to worry about someone selling us out."

"Aye, aye capitaine."Newt gave a mock salute.

The body beside them started to stir.

"Thank goodness."Newt gave a sigh of relief "He's coming to. Any longer and we would have had to grab a med-jack."

"Alright, well If we're really doing this then I'm going to need go prepare for tonight's meeting. Why don't you get better acquainted with our greenie." Alby got up to leave, "And Newt.."

"Yeah?"

"Watch what you say. Our goal is to not make him faint again. In fact, maybe it's better if you don't say anything." 

"Oi buggar off." Newt chased him off and was once again alone with Thomas who was groaning slightly. Moving closer, Newt took one last breath before shaking Thomas' shoulder. At last, his eyes flicked open and Thomas' dazedly tried to regain focus.

"Hello again Tommy, welcome back to reality." Newt said as friendly as he could manage.

Thomas lay their blinking before speaking, "W-what did you call me?"

"Tommy? Or do you prefer Thomas? We haven't been properly introduced yet." Newt wasn't sure if Thomas was fully conscious yet but he was entirely aware that he was speaking way too fast for someone who was in Thomas' state, "People here, call me Newt."

Thomas kept staring at him with a stupid look on his face and Newt had to stop himself from laughing at the way Thomas' eyebrows were scrunched.

"I know you." Thomas muttered.

"Yeah, I was waiting for you outside the bathroom and then you fainted. Do you remember that?"

"No." Newt was surprised by the force behind Thomas' words, "I mean I know you. You're the glue. You're not supposed to be here."

Newt was starting to get scared. He didn't understand what Thomas was saying but there was something about the emotion in Thomas' face that was creating butterflies in his stomach.  
"I don't understand. What do you mean by the glue? I've never met you before." For some reason his words lacked the force he meant them to have.

Thomas closed his eyes for a bit and when he opened them they were clearer. "Sorry, I'm all messed up inside. I can't get a hold of my thoughts and it's very frustrating." Thomas said calmer now as he sat himself up.

Newt was thoroughly confused now but he was glad Thomas appeared more cognisant. "Don't worry about it Tommy you've had quite the day. Do you want some water?"

"No I'm alright. Just talk to me please. I need something to hold onto."

"Aight..." Newt wasn't sure where to begin. "I'm not sure if anyone has told you but this place is called the Glade. It's like our secret hide out where we can live in peace and plan our operations."

"Oh that's cool." Newt could see Thomas' brain kicking into gear as he processed the information. "Who exactly are you guys and what do you do?"

"Haha I guess I forgot the most basic information. Umm so we're called the Gladers because we live and work out of this tavern. There's like forty something of us, although not everyone lives here. Some of us our students, others street kids and orphans. We even have a couple members of the proletariat in our midst. Pretty much we rally together anyone who is fed up with the tyranny and injustices of the king and his bourgeois and like find ways to fight back and stuff."

All this talking had gotten Newt excited which was odd because he wasn't one to be into anything really. Thomas seemed to be absorbing it in as quick as possible. "So then what's your story, seeing as I don't have one?" 

"Umm.. well I'm a student. Or at least I was. It's hard to keep up with classes when you're fighting tyranny and what not." Newt didn't really want to think about his past "I dunno really... my life's not all that exciting."

"Well at least its coherent." Thomas managed to laugh which lifted the mood a bit.

"So what's tyranny like exactly? Is it like sharks?" Thomas continued with his questions.

"Sharks? Where'd that come from?"

"I hate them, it's one of the few things I remember."

"Well tyranny is much worse than a shark. Because at least a shark will have the decency to kill you. The King keeps us alive but we can't live. We get tricked and tempted into false hope with revolutions and power changes and yet a kings still sits on the throne and the poor remain poor. We're just pawns in some stupid game."

Thomas clenched his eyes again, as if he was deep in thought. "I don't belong here." he said softly.

Newt felt his eyes get heavy and dark. He thoughts drifted to the night he first met Alby and the way the wind had whipped past him. "Yeah me neither..."


	3. Chapter 3

-Thomas-

Thomas awoke after what seemed like eons. His body felt less pathetic but it still hurt like a motherfucker to sit up. 

In his rested state he looked around the room and took in his surroundings. Newt's bedroom was more of a closet and the ceiling was quite low making it difficult to stand. Luckily there was a window and Thomas propped it open to get some fresh air.

He was greeted by a maze of buildings, sprawling in all directions. Crisscrossing through the maze were the impressions of streets and alleys. How anyone managed to find their way in such a mess was a wonder. It made Thomas feel even more frustrated. He didn't want to be here anymore and yet he had no idea of a way out.

"Nauseating isn't it?" Thomas turned to see that Newt had returned, "At this time of day the heat makes the rot in the street unbearable."

"Yeah I guess it does smell rather foul."

"Did you know that this used to be a forest? That's actually why this tavern is called the Glade. Back in the day the Seine would wind its way through groves of mighty oaks until it would come to this beautiful glade of wildflowers. Now it just flows through this bloody shithole."

Thomas quite enjoyed Newt's dourness as it made him feel less out of place. "What time is it?" He inquired, "I feel like I slept for a month."

"Good that you did. You were a loopy mess before." Thomas felt a little sheepish for his behaviour, but there was just so much that still did not make sense. Church bells interrupted his thoughts. "Oh what luck just in time for afternoon tea, my grammy would be proud. I bet your hungry. Shall we eat?"

"You're English?" Thomas' brain started to recall more information about history and cultural practices but it still felt very disconnected. "Aren't we in France?" He might have been confused but the language and setting around him had felt like what France was supposed to look like. At least at some point in its past.

"An astute observation although I fancy my accent gave it away." Newt smiled wryly, "I said I was a student right, so I'm here for studies."

"But you said you dropped out. Why are you even involved with this stuff?" Thomas couldn't help himself. Newt just didn't make much sense and he was compelled to know more "Couldn't you just go back to England?"

"You're a curious one aren't you?" The levity drained from Newt's face. Thomas could tell that he didn't want to answer any more questions. "Alright let get some things clear. This is a delicate secret operation we got here and you're new and we don't trust you." Thomas' heart fell at that even though it made sense in his head. How could he break their trust when his whole consciousness was dependant on these people? Newt continued, "So there are some rules you are going to have to follow. For starters cool it with the questions. If you need to know something we'll tell you, otherwise zip it. Next do as I say. Alby has put you under my care and I don't want to be bothered with your messes. Finally do not leave this building."

"Why can I not leave the building?"

"Were you not listening? We don't want you running off to the city guard or the grievers. Also in your state you'll probably do something dumb and get hurt."

"Oh...Who are the grievers?"

Newt flared up a bit. "Enough with the questions, let's go get food." He spun around and left. Thomas scrambled out of bed after him.

They winded down several fights of stairs until they were in the large room from earlier. Thomas could feel several sets of eyes glaring at him so he scooted closer to Newt, who was gabbing a seat at the bar. 

"Oi Frypan! Greenie's awake. Could you scrounge Tommy up some food."

"Greenie eh?" A friendly face popped out from behind the counter.

"Uh.. I prefer Thomas."

"Haha Newt you have a silly pet." Newt kept an unimpressed expression. "So.. Thomas what can I get you?"

The possibility of food had awaken Thomas' stomach and it roared with a vengeance. "Actually I could kill for a pizza."

"Pizza? Never heard of it." Both Frypan and Newt looked at him perplexed.

"Um I think it's Italian."

"Italian? What kind of pet did you pick up Newt?"

"He's not mine, but it seems Chuck managed to fish some fancy shit out of the sewer."

"I'll say. Bread and cheese it is then."

"Actually that's basically pizza." Thomas laughed to himself a little.

"Pizza.. We'll you'll have to show me how to make it sometime but until then enjoy." Frypan placed a small baguette and ball of cheese in front of Thomas, who ate them greedily.

As Thomas was refueling himself one of the countless doors opened and several people rushed in carrying large sacs. The rest of the room responded quickly and people rushed over to assist them.

"Minho!" Frypan yelled over the counter "Are those my goodies?"

One of the new entrants adjusted his scarf and called back, "No sorry, new orders. This is for the demonstration."

"Aw that's bull I'm scraping crumbs here!" Frypan lamented.

"You'll be fine for another week." Newt joined the conversation.

"No I won't, especially if you keep bringing in new people."

"You were at the meeting last night. You'll manage." Newt insisted, "If things get real bad we'll send out more runners." Frypan didn't seem appeased and huffed back into the kitchen.

"Are you sure about that?" The one called Minho moved closer, "Things are getting pretty hairy out there. Something's got the grievers more riled up than usual."

Newt wiped his face and sighed, "Just avoid running at night and use the crowds for disguise. This isn't our first time running this show. And once we start rallying the masses more things will get easier."

"I guess. Do you think you could get Chuck and his rats to start hyping things up?"

"Yeah sure." Newt replied, "And I'll talk to Alby about getting you some more runners. Now will you put that stuff in the vault before they eat it all."

"Yeah yeah." Minho smiled. He then turn and signalled to the others. "Oi, Ben get moving, this is not a party."

"But it will be tonight." One of the boys cheered, "Aint that right boys? The Gladers are back in action!" Several the boys whooped in response and they all dragged the sacs into one of the back rooms.

"Well at least some people are excited." Newt said as he took a big swig out of the glass that he had gotten from somewhere.

"Haha most of the boys are." Minho continued, "That's why we joined up in the first place. To do something. Don't worry about the others they are just spooked by those missing kid rumours."

"What missing kids?" Thomas blurted absent mindedly.

"Hello greenie." Minho grinned, "I see you're making yourself comfortable."

"Uh, Frypan gave me this." Thomas panicked as he scarfed down the last of his food.

"Haha don't worry about it. You'll need that energy if you're going to become a runner." Newt smacked Minho at that, "Or not. Anyways, there has just been rumours that the grievers are kidnapping random kids, for no reason. They aren't even degenerates like us."

"What are these grievers? I know you're not supposed to tell me but I feel like I should know what we're up against."

Minho gave Newt an awkward glance until finally he relented. "Oh whatever, just tell him already. He'll just keep asking me anyways."

"Okay so you know how there's the city guard?" Minho asked.

No in fact Thomas didn't know much of anything so he shook his head. 

"Oh yeah you don't know much, well anyways the city guard is no big deal. They are lazy and easy to pay off. But then there is this other guard, the kings secret guard. Those are the grievers. They roam the city at night and purge any sign of resistance, cause us all kinds of trouble. If someone gets caught by one of them they are never seen again. We've lost a lot of good men to them."

"Yikes, that's terrifying!" Thomas squeaked and then tried to gain some composure, "What happens to those who get caught."

"Hell if I know. They probably get killed. I'm just glad us runners have fast legs and haven't gotten close enough to find out."

Thomas could just imagine running through the tight streets at night being chased by some unseen soldier. It sent shivers down his spine. The idea that the King who terrorize his people in such a way just seemed so wrong.

"How is such a thing even allowed? It seems so skecthy and evil."

"Well that's just the world we live in. The assholes who make the rules are all shucked up." Newt said.

"Aint that the truth." Minho agreed and the two of them clinked drinks. Thomas wondered when Minho had gotten a drink but he had more important questions to deal with first.

"So you guys are trying to stop this? Like are you going to overthrow the King?"

Neither boy answered him. Finally Newt spoke up.

"We already tried that, but when we chopped his head off a new one grew."

"We either have a king, a dictator or an emperor, all of them tyrants." Minho joined.

"So then what do the Gladers do exactly?"

"Well until you showed up we hadn't been doing much for a while other than the occasional raid or demonstration." Newt stated glumly.

"We do more than that. We also provide a home for people who have been screwed over by the King." Minho interjected.

"Like Chuck?" Thomas thought of the young plucky kid who had helped him out of the sewer.

"Like all of us really." replied Minho

"We have this vision you know of rallying the people. Sending rumours and pamphlets through the streets to educate them. Try and get people talking about a life without the King. We just got a little lazy is all." Newt tried to be more positive.

"Then you came around and Alby and Newt here are all like we need you to run every day." Minho laughed a little.

"You mentioned raids. Is that what the runners do?" Thomas asked trying to piece it all together.

"Basically. We target major supporters of the King such as the guilds or major aristocrats and steal food and stuff to give to the poor." Minho explained.

"Just like Robin Hood." Thomas said thoughtfully.

"Who's that?" Minho asked before he was interrupted by Newt. "A English folk hero. How do you know that?"

"Beats me I just do. There's a bunch of random information floating up there that doesn't make much sense till you guys start talking and then it starts to fall together."

"Man Newt, your greenie is hilarious." Minho patted Thomas on the shoulder as he wandered to a different corner of the room. 

Thomas turned to face Newt who was looking at him with a deep appraising stare that made Thomas feel uncomfortable as if Newt could see right through him. "Well aren't you a queer one." Newt said through his dark amber eyes. "Just who exactly are you?" He took one last swig of his drink before joining the rest of the boys who were already celebrating the days successful raid. 

Thomas watched him go and felt his breath relax. He may not know who he was but he was starting to form a home and he was going to do his best to help their cause.


	4. Chapter 4

-Newt- 

The next couple of days breezed by as he helped Alby organize all the details for their demonstration. The runners had made six raids and had amassed quite a supply of goods to redistribute. Meanwhile the rats were scattered throughout the city getting the citizenry pumped up for something big. Even the most stubborn of boys were beginning to get into the spirit of things. Doing raids and propaganda runs is a lot better than sitting around grumbling all day.

Thomas on the other hand had become increasingly problematic. His need for answers may have been satiated but he had moved on to trying to help, which would be great except that half the gladers didn't trust him at all.

Newt had to spend the bulk of his time keeping Thomas in quarantine so he wouldn't get in a fight with someone. This was rather tiresome as sitting still was the last thing Thomas wanted to do.

"Didn't Jeff tell you to rest?" Newt pleaded, "You have two broken ribs for goodness sake."

"But I can't sit here and do nothing while you guys are out there fighting against the King." Thomas paced restlessly across Newt's room.

"We're not fighting the bloody King, we're just planning a little demonstration. It's really not as exciting as you presume."

"Well it should be. We can't just let this tyranny go on. The grievers must be stopped, the king must be stopped." Thomas spat passionately.

"When did you start caring so much? This isn't your fight, you said it yourself you don't belong here." Newt immediately regretted those last words. He could see the energy slink out of Thomas' shoulders.

"But this is all I know." Thomas said sadly, sitting down on the mattress Newt had lent him to recover while he slept on the floor. Once the others settled down they would move Thomas to another room. "Your right, I'm being stupid. I just have this strong feeling that I'm trapped and all I want to do is just run away until I'm free. And so when I see how you guys are suffering I just want to do something. Otherwise the walls around me will consume what little self I have left."

Newt sat down and started rubbing Thomas' back. In the tight quarters of the Glade it was hard not to get physically close. But more than that, something deep inside of Newt needed this reassurance, probably more than Thomas did. " 

"Hey hey. It's alright." Newt did his best to comfort Thomas but realized that was a losing battle so decided to shift tones. "You know, it's about time you left this god-awful building anyway. So listen up okay. If you help me finish these pamphlets I'll sneak you out to the rally tomorrow. Sound good?" Thomas perked up at that "Just don't tell Gally." 

"Sure thing boss."Thomas said with gusto. "Let's see these pamphlets." Newt rushed over to his desk and grabbed the stack that he had been working on. Thomas leafed through them while he quickly proofread the last few.

"Oh god these are awful." Thomas exclaimed after a couple minutes of reading.

"Hey I worked hard on those!" Newt defended himself.

"Well I mean the drawing's real pretty but the rest is so dull."

"You're lucky I just designed the drawings, Alby came up the rest." Newt was getting a little irate. Even if it was Alby's work something about Thomas' disapproval irked him.

"Not to be blunt, but these are terrible. They are long and boring and complicated to read. I mean I may have no memories but I doubt the lay people will understand these."

"But democracy is a complicated thing. We have to explain it carefully so people don't replace the king with another tyrant."

"No its not." Thomas insisted his face flushed with passion. It had been awhile since Newt had seen that passion, probably not since his early days with Alby. "Democracy is simply a vote. If the people aren't choosing whose in power than they're getting it wrong. These flyers are supposed to excite people about us and give them a simple idea of what real freedom looks like. Also something needs to be done about this font it's way too fancy and difficult to read. Don't you have like a printer or something?"

"We have a small press. That is what we printed most of those on. I just edit the design."

"Well we will have to get a new one then." Thomas said determinedly. 

"The rally is tomorrow we don't have time for that."

"Then we will have to make do with what we have. Pass me you're quill I need to make some adjustments." Newt did so and Thomas began to furious scratch notes on the flyer.

"Since when were you an expert on freedom?" Newt inquired and Thomas paused his frantic noting. 

"I dunno, but I think freedom is something I've been searching for my whole life." Thomas said and then continued his work.

They spent much of the night printing Thomas' new design while Thomas complained about the press' limitations in font and colour. Despite his critiques, Newt had to admit the new designs were much catchier. Even Alby sanctioned them when he checked up on them. By the time they crawled up to bed they had 500 new flyers, but Newt was too exhausted to notice. He barely even registered that he ended up sleeping in the same bed as Thomas but the warm body was a nice comfort compared to the floor.

Newt crept out mid-morning getting less sleep than he would have liked but there was still too much to do. Luckily Frypan had decided to be generous today and had prepared omelettes which was a special treat.

The rats were already well into their city wide tour, hyping up the event and Alby had divided the raided supplies into easily distributed groups. Newt gave a smile when he heard one of the less educated members comment on the flyers "Oh now I get it."

When Thomas finally lumbered into the main hall he was already buzzing with excitement. Newt quickly busied him with taking inventory so he didn't do something stupid near Gally and ruin their plan.

Before he knew it the demonstration was starting and a large crowd had already amassed in the square. Newt spotted Thomas standing excitedly in the midst of them. The change of setting had greatly improved his demeanor and his smile radiated like a glistening sea. Newt had instructed him to stick to the crowds and keep as low key as possible. Hopefully he would comply. Luckily the city guards were keeping back probably not wanting to deal with the hassle of crowd control.

Alby cleared his throat and stood up on the makeshift stage (an old carriage) and a team of gladers weaved through the crowd distributing Thomas' fliers. The murmurs of the crowd softened.

"Workers of Paris!" Alby began a lot more impassioned than he had been of late, "In 1788 we began a revolution. We tried to break out of the shackles of our serfdom and create a different model of governance. We showed the world that when people work together they achieve wonders. But then by 1804 we had a new tyrant with a different name; Bonaparte."

This part was always the most difficult to sell as there were still many Napoleon supporters in the populace.

"Next thing you know our children and comrades are being shipped off to die while gold statues get erected out of bread money. So we ran to the streets once again only to get the King back again. There is still no representation, there is still no freedom. In ancient Athens they proposed a revolutionary idea, Democracy. They posited the idea that the people could rule themselves better than any man or god. And so we pass this gift on to you. Be not content with any tyrant. Rest not till the gates of Versailles are replaced with a ballot box. Head no revolution unless it promises you democracy, liberty and freedom. This duty is all of ours. As the fellowship of mankind we must aide one another in this fight for freedom. And so for all ye who long for freedom swear it now in the presence of your comrades." 

Alby raised his makeshift tricolour and waved it forcefully. The crowd stared in anticipation and it was at this moment that the gladers revealed several loads of food and goods previously disguised as crates. This got the crowd's attention and they swarmed the crates as bread and coin was handed out.

Newt felt that the rally was a success. A beautiful speech by Alby and the people seemed excited by the food. Hopefully Alby's words had reached their ears and their hearts.

In the commotion that followed Newt had lost sight of Thomas. This was concerning as the city guard would soon close now that stolen goods had been presented. He scanned the square for Thomas, his heart rising into his throat.

At last he spotted Thomas making a beeline for the stage. Newt swallowed, glad that he was safe. But something in Thomas' expression sparked concern. Before he had time to react Thomas had hopped onto the carriage and was flailing his arms for attention.

"Could I have everyone's attention please!" he yelled to no avail. Newt made to stop him before Gally punched him or Alby got too frustrated when Thomas did the unthinkable. He grabbed the flag from Alby's hand and smashed it against the carriage window shattering the glass.

That drew everyone's attention including the city guard who moved towards the edge of the crowd.

"Thank you." Thomas continued, "Now listen, I would like to thank my esteemed colleague for his speech but not all of us have history degrees. Who understood all of that? I know I didn't"

To Newt's surprise this actually drew a response from the crowd with some laughing and playing along.

"Thought so. So let's keep things simple. Who likes bread?" Thomas asked.

This drew more cheers from the audience.

"Yeah and who wants to eat bread?" Thomas reached down grabbed a loaf and took a dramatic bite which the crowd loved. 

"Then why do you let others stop you from having bread? Why do you let other people tell you what you can and cannot do?"

The crowd got quiet and almost pensive. Newt was amazed he had never seen someone work a crowd like this.

"Are you waiting for someone to come and rescue you? Because they are not coming. Napoleon didn't rescue you. The King isn't rescuing you. No one is. If you want freedom, if you want bread you need to do something!"

The crowd was eating it up, even the city guards were listening.

"That's the beauty of democracy. You finally get to do something. You get to vote. You get to decide what you get to do."

Newt could now see how Thomas' simplified flyers were working with this. They told people what they could do to make things better in easy to understand terms and flashy letters.

"So don't accept anything less. No Gods no Kings. Just you and me. If you want bread, you need a vote and if you want a vote you need to just go and take it. The King and his guards and grievers may try and stop you. But they can't stop all of us. Not if we fight. So who's with me? Who's going to help me get some shucking bread?!"

At this point the crowd was completely out of the guards control. And then Thomas started chanting "BREAD! VOTE! FIGHT! BREAD! VOTE! FIGHT!" And the crowd followed suit filling the city with a raucous shout. Newt couldn't help but join them, even Alby was chanting along.

It was then that Newt noticed that backup had arrived and that things were about to get messy. He ran up to Thomas and pulled him away. "If you value your life we need to go now."

Thomas nodded and addressed the crowd one last time. "Now go and never be happy until you are free!" At that he booked it towards the nearest ally and the crowd dispersed in what can only be described as chaotic. Newt could just barely keep up with Thomas who was dragging him down countless alleyways and side streets.

They finally stopped in a small park and collapsed onto a bench.

"Well-" Thomas struggled to get his breath, "How did I do?"

"You were bloody amazing that's what you were." Newt replied lying down onto Thomas' lap. Thomas brilliant eyes stared back at him and Newt couldn't remember the last time his heart beat this fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support. I've never written a fanfiction so fast but all your support has urged me to keep going.
> 
> I am not a historian so mind anything that sounds factual because it is probably wrong. I just really like les mis. Haha but you prolly couldn't tell that :)
> 
> I kind of hate that Thomas has urged everyone to fight but the revolutionary period was not known to be peaceful. My mennonite ancestors are probably shunning me now. I'll have to find a way to incorporate some kind of peace message into the plot as we continue.
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy where it's at so far. As mentioned above your support is greatly appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

-Thomas-

Thomas couldn't believe he had just done that. The demonstration had been so exciting with all the people and commotion. But then, when it became clear that the people were more interested in bread than in escaping this life Thomas was compelled to do something. 

But really what was he doing? He didn't understand their world. He wasn't even sure if he belonged here. All he knew was that they could no longer sit still. That something had to be done.

Newt was beaming up at him so he must have done something right. Thomas absentmindedly began running his fingers through Newt's hair. Ever since he had first met the guy he had felt drawn to him as if he could find some part of his lost identity in the other. He was almost certain that he had heard Newt's voice before gently pleading with him. Although there were a lot of weird tidbits floating around in his head that didn't really make sense. All he knew was that the closer he got to Newt the more settled and secure everything felt, which couldn't be a bad thing. He was afraid to bring it up but that night they had slept together was the best sleep he had gotten yet.

"Who are you really?" Newt asked

"You tell me because God's knows I haven't a clue."

"Well you're definitely different, that's for sure." Newt licked his lips in a pensive gesture that was highly distracting, "The things you know, the things you do. Normal people don't know about sharks, or Italian cuisine or English folklore. Normal people can't pull speeches out of their arse like you just did." Thomas chuckled at Newt's raw words.

"Sure they can. Alby had a great speech."

"No seriously you're not like others, you have this energy and this vision to you. You have known us for less than a week and already everything has changed." Newts eyes were searching deeper into him, "It's like you have some divine power over me that makes me believe that we can do it. You make me believe that freedom is possible. And that's crazy because I'm a cynical sad sack." 

"Newt..I..."

"Are you some kind of angel or something? Has god finally bothered to help me?"

Thomas didn't know how to respond to Newt's words. His face was beginning to get flush. "I doubt I'm an angel. Especially after that speech I just gave -No gods no kings- If anything I'm some kind of anarchic demon."

Newt laughed a bit at that and the seriousness left his body. "Well I for one think we could use a little bit of your anarchy." He abruptly stood up and Thomas' lap felt cold."Here come with me. There's something I want to show you."  
Thomas took Newt's hand and followed him through the maze. He noticed that Newt was trying to hide a limp.

"Did you always have that limp?" Newt paused and Thomas though he could hear him curse under his breath.

"Don't worry about it Tommy. I've just been doing a lot more running than I'm used to and my bloody leg is acting up."

"Oh.." They continued on their way and Thomas could see that Newt's limp looked more natural and less constricted now. But even then it looked more severe than a pulled muscle.

The light was fading from the sky and the streets were beginning to get dark. Torches began to sprinkle their way.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't we head back before the grievers start heading out?"

"Don't worry about it we're almost there and the grievers don't come near this part."

The buildings were rapidly declining in quality and becoming more and more spread out. Eventually they broke completely and Thomas could see the walls that taxed the city limits. 

Newt nodded towards the guard and then dragged Thomas past the other side.

Thomas was blown away by the overwhelming space of the countryside. The remains of the sunset lit the horizon casting a pinkish flame across the fields.

It was then that Thomas could hear music coming and noticed a gathering of tents and wagons.

"Gypsies.." He gasped.

"Good guess Tommy, but I believe they prefer to be called Romani." Newt tousled his hair, "They are some of the last people who remember the joy of music and dance. Now come on lets join the party."

They ventured towards the encampment where the music and light grew louder. Its warmth triggered a deep sense of joy within him and he couldn't help himself from smiling. A large fire was blazing and several people were dancing to an assortment of instruments.

"They look so free." He said caught up in the wonder of it all.

"That's because we are darling. No master rules us." A beaming women said from his left, "Ah my beautiful Issac, I see you've found yourself an angel." She embraced Newt consuming his small frame in her flowing clothes. 

"He's just a friend." Newt said looking at Thomas.

"And Mother Mary gave birth to a duck." She spat grabbing a hold of Newt's cheeks "Don't deny the gifts God gives you." Thomas could see Newt blush slightly. "Now what can I get for you tonight?"

Newt moved to join Thomas in the conversation. "Tommy, this is Jaelle. One of this family's elders." Thomas liked the way Newt tried to make himself sound knowledgeable "The Romani are proud of their self-employment and thus exist outside of the King's law. We get lots of our supplies through Jaelle's family. We also get lots of booze. Care for some?"

"Uh sure..."

"Here you go boys." Jaelle handed them two cups of amber fluid "Now pay up. Nothing in this life is free. Not even freedom and especially not booze."

Newt rummaged through his shirt and handed her some coins and then led Thomas to a log where they could sit and watch the fire. Thomas took a sip and ended up coughing.

"Ah what's in this?"

"Haha who knows." Newt giggled high and free. It was adorable. "Romani secret recipe. Got quite the kick though doesn't it?"

"I'll say. I can see why they are all dancing."

"Actual most are probably sober, better motor control that way."

"Jaelle seems to know you well. care to explain?"

"Well you know when you do trade and what not..." Newt mumbled.

"Really like that... Come on what's the story. How did you get involved with the Romani in the first place?"

Newt sighed. "Man you do not stop with the questions do you?"

"Never. Especially when they pertain to you. You're one of the only people I know and yet I hardly know anything about you."

"She's Alby's mother." Newt relented.

"Holly shit no way!"

"Yeah...." Newt swallowed hard before continuing, "When I first met Alby I wasn't in the best of shape."

"Kind of like me when I first met you guys."

"Kind of..." Newt's face was dark, "Anyways, he brought me back to his family and they helped me out. Got me back on my feet you know?"

Thomas thought back to Newt's limp and wondered if there was a connection but it seemed too sore a subject to bring up. Newt was finally opening up to him better not screw it up.

"So then why isn't Alby with them now? How did the gladers form in the first place?"

"Well let's just say that Alby and his family had a philosophical disagreement over their role in society and well for the Romani philosophy is very important so he left the community."

"Oh.."

"Yeah. But they are still his family so they still help out a little. That's why they stuck around the city. Normally they move around a lot more."

"And the gladers?"

"Alby had a lot of passion in those days. He got a hold of a rundown tavern and gathered a bunch of street kids to fix it and turn it into the Glade we know today."

"And you've been beside his side this whole time?"

"Yup." Newt took a long drink from his glass. "Although a lot of help I've been."

"SHUT UP!" Thomas didn't realize how livid he had gotten and had smashed his glass against the log. "Don't talk like that. You're plenty useful. You helped Alby set up that whole rally thing today and prepared those flyers with me all last night." He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, that drink had screwed up his control. "Without you I'd be nowhere. I'm literally lost in a sea of chaos and then I hear your voice and things start to make sense. So don't say things like that. You're doing an injustice to yourself and I won't allow it."

Newt stared back flabbergasted. "Tommy - I.."

"Put away that drink. It's making you stupid." Thomas said regainign control of himself. This whole time he had been blocking out the party and the music was begining to creep back into his senses. It bounced against his heart and made him laugh. "Here we are at party in the presence of such joy and were crying like infants. Come dance with me."

"What I can't..."

"Come dance with me." And Thomas reached down and yanked Newt up holding onto him for balance. "We're at a party. Let's enjoy ourselves."

He scooted them closer to the fire where people made room for them. It was hella awkward. he had no idea what he was doing and Newt was just staring at him expectantly. He closed his eyes and focused on the music. Slowly he began to feel it sync up with his internal rythym and he started to move, radiating the energy through his fingers and toes.

When he opened his eyes Newt was standing with his mouth agape. So Thomas sauntered over to him, grabbed his wrist and brought him close before spinning him like a delicate flower.

Newt went bright red so Thomas pulled him again and swayed him to the beat that was pulsating through him. Eventually Newt started to relax and he began to join Thomas in the dance. And once he did it was beautiful. Newt had such elegant limbs that would flow through the air. Thomas was all in the legs dancing close to the earth and pounding it with his feet like a drum. But Newt was like a bird soaring through the air. He would twirl and leap like he had been born doing this. Thomas supposed that he had danced before when he had first met the Romani but it was truly a sight to behold before him.

They danced like that for several minutes following the flow of the music as it rose and fell. Eventually Newt's leg had had enough and he hobbled to the side. Thomas rushed after him propping himself under Newts weaker side. The continued out into the field until the music dissipated into the ambiance of the night.

They were both giggling like children. Newt's was high and fluttering compared to Thomas' cackles. His face was glowing like the stars and Thomas struggled not to look at it. 

"I have to say Tommy, you sure know how to pick a guy up. I don't think I've had so much fun since like ever."

"Yeah well I had a great dance partner. You should have told me you were part hummingbird." Thomas leaped around trying to mimic Newt's dancing before rushing back to catch Newt's bad shoulder. He was struggling to stand and Thomas was worried about how to get him back to the Glade.

"You're really something aren't you." Newt said softly his face now inches from Thomas'. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Yeah.." Thomas felt himself being drawn towards Newt. Aching to taste his lips, "Me either"

He closed his eyes and was about to make a move when a force sent his body crashing to the ground.

Someone had tackled him and was trying to sock him the face. Thomas twisted and sent them rolling down the hill.

"BEN, WHAT THE SHUCK!" he could hear Newt yell in the distance hobbling after them. 

Ben was much heavier than Thomas and managed to pin him to the ground. He punched Thomas in the jaw and it cracked loudly.

"I know who you are! You bastard!" Ben sneered punching him in the gut. "How dare you come join us!"

Thomas didn't understand what his was talking about. His head ached and his broken ribs were stabbing into him. If he didn't get Ben off him he'd be in trouble. 

When Ben made to swing again Thomas stabbed his free hand into Bens groin and then crashed his head into Ben's stomach. Ben howled in pain but didn't budge so Thomas dug his nails into Ben's arm and took a bite out of his belly.

That caused Ben to shift enough for Thomas to wiggle himself free. He scrambled up the hill to see Ben lunging after him when Newt struck Ben's face with a stick. Ben collapsed backwards and crashed into the ground.

Thomas laid in pain as Newt shuffled over to examine him, "Oh my God Tommy are you alright?"

Thomas' ears were ringing and his chest roared in pain but he managed to grunt out. "..Ben!"

"Don't worry about him the Romani have got him. See?"

Thomas struggled to raise his head and saw several men holding Ben down as he was tied up. Jaelle rushed over and checked Thomas' body.

"Is he going to be okay?" Newt asked worry accenting his voice.

"I'm- mfine" Thomas blurted his voice sluggish and lisping. He lips felt like they were ballooning to consume his whole face.

"He'll be fine." Jaelle stated as she felt up his chest. "Though he'll feel it in the morning and several mornings after that. Bavol! Come carry him back." She called to one of the men.

"I can do it." Newt said trying to lift him.

"Not tonight Isaac. Not with that leg."

Thomas felt strong arms lift him and his head flopped back to look at Newt.

"What are you going to do about Ben?" Newt asked as he followed the caravan back.

"Don't worry child. We will deal with him." Jaelle replied. "Rest up and make sure your angel doesn't die during the night."

Newt's head fell and he slugged behind. Thomas wanted to reassure him so he tried to get him talk some more. "I'll be fine. The more important question is when you were going to tell me your name is Isaac?"

Newt looked back up at him visibly holding back tears and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now wasn't that a feelsy chapter:)
> 
> I am not an expert on Romani culture so please let me know if you feel my portrayal is inaccurate. I am more than happy to make adjustments. I just thought their preference for self-employment as a form of freedom an interesting insight for the story. Also they have great music and I wanted to dance.
> 
> Also alcohol sucks don't drink it. I hate how people are too ashamed to dance without it. Everyone should dance all the time:)
> 
> Thanks again for the continued support I love your comments.


	6. Chapter 6

-Newt- 

Newt wasn't able to sleep at all that night. He just lay there staring at Thomas and freaking the fuck out. Thomas was so weak from his scuffle that he had passed out before they reached the encampment and Bavol had laid him to rest in a spare tent. Newt was fixated on Thomas' lips as he watched the blood slowly stop oozing and eventually dry and crust over. 

He couldn't comprehend what had possessed Ben to attack Thomas. Just the other day Ben had been celebrating how Thomas' arrival had made the gladers more active. Newt struggled to graps how he went from that to shouting "How dare you come and join us!".

What did he even mean by that. What kind of insight into Thomas' identity could have caused such a primal response from Ben? Let alone where did such an insight come from? Was it something in Thomas' speech? He would have to grill Ben tomorrow once he had somehow managed to explain this to Alby.

He knew their leader would not be pleased about these developments and Newt berated himself for bringing Thomas to the Romani encampment. He should have waited, should have at least talked to Alby about Thomas. Thomas wasn't supposed to know about the raids let alone Alby's family. Shit he had been careless and now Thomas was fucking hurt.

He had been careless. Letting this stranger worm his way into his confidence . Letting him talk his way into their secrets. Letting him get so physically close. 

He thought about how their bodies had adjoined earlier. There was a sudden heat to Thomas' eyes before he had closed them and leaned in. Newt was no fool. He knew what would have happened if Ben hadn't attacked. He just didn't know what he would have done about it. 

"Bloody hell, Tommy," He grumbled into the night, "Why did you have to go and do that?

Just thinking about it, with Thomas' lips just lying a few feet away was too much and Newt had to roll to the other side of the tent.

These things weren't allowed to happen to Newt. The world sucked and Newt was the pathetic sot who suffered through it. These were the constants that he was constantly reminded of. He was fallen, long cast away from God's eyes. He knew that there was no place for him in this world. So why did God have to send this angel to tempt him. Hadn't he suffered enough already. Newt knew that nothing good would come from this. No matter how hard he wished otherwise.

And yet he couldn't stop himself from wishing anyway. Thomas was such a new variable to the equation. He was so hopeful and safe. Inviting Newt to join him in the sun. 

Newt smacked his head against the ground. He needed to regain his senses. Thomas had been around for a week and he was already having an epistemic crisis over him. What did he actually know about Thomas? What if this was a trap or some cruel test of faith? What if Thomas was pretending to have amnesia just to get information out of him or to lure him to sin so God could smite him once more?

Newt banged his head again. He was verging on the insane and needed to look at this logically. But there was nothing logical about this. It was all just stirrings in his gut. Longing, sadness, hope, despair. Just a big mess of emotions crashing about inside him.

He turned to face Thomas once more. His features just visible in the light of the moon. The swelling was beginning to die down on his face and his cheeks were glistening in sweat. Newt watched Thomas' chest rise and fall with his ragged breath and couldn't help but wonder what he had in store for him. Thomas was like the tide coming in. Would he bring refreshing waters or wash Newt out into the darkness.

He smacked his head again.

By the time morning finally broke Newt was sporting a vicious headache. He had spent all night fretting and had only come to the conclusion that he should wait and see. 

His thoughts were finally interrupted by Thomas groaning awake.

"Aw Fuck I don't think my ribs will ever heal." He moaned moving to sit up.

Newt observed intently as the sleep drained out of Thomas' eyes. "Just be happy your alive." He said glumly.

Thomas was too astute for him and quickly asked, "What's got you so grumpy. You should be elated that your dance partner lives to dance another day." 

With his headache Newt did not have patience to fake niceties. "Come on let's get some food."

He exited the tent and breathed in the crisp morning air. It filled his lungs, numbing the chaos inside. Mornings were his favourite part of coming out to the City's edge.

Thomas scrambled out after him and audibly gasped, "Damn! It's perfect out here. Why don't the gladers just move out here?"

"It's not as simple as that." Newt grumbled before heading towards the fire where the Romani had gathered.

"Good morning boys," Jaelle cooed warmly but there was something forced about it. "Survive the night?" She was too pleasant for Newt's current disposition although he could sense some weariness in the bags under her eyes.

The same couldn't be said for Thomas who was far too chipper for this hour, "Apparently. But I guess I have you to thank for that." And he hopped over to hug her and Bavol. 

"Yes thank you once again for your hospitality, but I think it's time we take Ben and get on our way back to the Glade. I have a lot to discuss with Alby. It will be a bitch to work out but Ben will be appropriately punished" Newt said diplomatically, eager to get this whole experience over with.

"That won't be necessary," Jaelle said. "The Romani have already dealt with Ben."

"What do you mean by dealt with? This is an internal matter it hardly concerns you." Newt was concerned. It was rare for the Romani to get involved in such a matter.

"It happened in our territory so it does concern us." She answered strongly, "And lately the grievers have been a lot more aggressive so we have to be careful."

Newt did not like the sound of that. The grievers were supposed to leave the areas outside the walls alone. "Why are grievers involved? What did you do to Ben?"

"We sold him to the grievers." She said and Newt wanted to punch something. "I know you're upset but in the past couple of weeks the grievers have practically been busting down our door. Something big went down at the palace. Things are becoming dangerous. They came into our camp last night. Threatened to burn it. And you don't mess with thise guys. They kill people like us on sight. I needed to protect my family."

"Protect your family? What about Alby? You just gave one of our own to the grievers. What if the Glade is next?" Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the headache but Newt was far less understanding than he should have been. If a griever was here last night he should be amazed that anyone is alive. 

"You think I'm some kind of fool." Jaelle spat back offended. "We made sure he wouldn't be talking. Think of it as my final gift. We have clearly stayed here too long. Now I think it is time that you leave." 

Several of the men stood up defensively around her. Thomas grabbed Newt's hand supportively prompting Newt to pull away. He stormed back to the city, ignoring the pain from his bad leg.

Thomas scurried behind him. "Newt, Newt. Slow down already. Are you alright?" 

Why couldn't Thomas keep his mouth shut and leave good enough alone? Newt stopped and unleashed the frustration of the past night on Thomas. "What do you shucking think you bloody idiot? Ben's dead, the Romani are pissed at us and probably leaving the city for good and it's all your fault!" He immediately regretted it, but his head hurt too much to fully process the situation.

Thomas looked at him through sorrowful eyes. "I know that. I know what the grievers do. I know Ben's gone. I don't quite know why but I must have done something to make Ben attack like that and I'm terribly sorry for bringing drama to Alby's family. But I also think that there are bigger things going on here. The grievers are the ones who killed Ben. The King is the one who is forcing the Romani to leave. Not me. Let's not fight amongst ourselves when our enemies are closing in. We need to focus on our goal. We have a revolution to lead."

It was hard to stay mad when Thomas was being so earnest. Newt groaned and sucked in his snot. This wasn't over, he wasn't ready to crawl back into Thomas' lap just yet, but he'd stop being an unreasonable bitch about it. "How are you always so positive? You just got beaten to a pulp and now I'm accusing you of ambicide and yet you're still focussed on getting us out of this mess."

"I guess I just have something worth fighting for." he said with steely determination. "Now come on we should probably catch Alby in on all of this shouldn't we?" He held out a hand.

"Ugh you're going to be the death of me." He grunted taking the support Thomas was offering. As they hobbled back the Glade Newt sincerely hoped those words weren't true.

Stealth was not on their side as they slid into the tavern. A huge gathering of gladers awaited them and burst into cheers. "BREAD! VOTE! FIGHT!" Clearly Thomas' speech had been a hit.

"Oi boys come get a drink!" Frypan summoned them over to the bar. Newt did not really want to deal with all these people at the moment. 

"Yeah it's on me." Minho joined in. "Wow Greenie who knew you could talk like that! Now spill the beans on your night time adventure. Did Newt take you outside the wall?"

To his dismay Gally did not share everyone else's view and interrupted the camaraderie before Thomas could answer. "What do you think you are doing Greenie? You weren't even supposed to be at that demonstration let alone hijack it." He slammed Thomas against the wall. With his injures that must have hurt.

"Leave him alone Gally." Minho grabbed a hold of Gally's arm, "So what if he was at the rally. It turned out great. You need to chill out."

"Chill out? We are under enough stress from the grievers without this guy stirring things up. Has anyone even seen Ben today? He probably got killed because of greenie's hijinx."

"Let him go." Newt finally decided to end the conversation. "Ben's dead. Yelling at Tommy's not going to get you anywhere. Trust me I've tried." Hr didn't have the patience yo be tactful. He just wanted to talk to Alby and sleep for an eternity, preferably far away from Thomas, at least until he had figured this shit out more.

The room got eerily quiet and Thomas slowly sunk to the floor as Gally's grip loosened. This wasn't the first time a glader had been killed by the grievers but it was always a unpleasant and sobering experience.

"You're not serious?" Minho asked stunned.

"I sincerely hope not or else we have a lot to discuss." At last Alby entered the room. Newt was relieved he could get away from the crowd but he was anxious about informing Alby what had happened.

"Alby....You took your bloody time. Minho make sure neither of these two does anything stupid." He said gesturing towards Gally and Thomas, "The rest of you get back to work. Ben was a good kid, deserved better than this. Let's raze this bloody city to the ground in his honour."

After a moment or two everyone resumed their activities, albeit more somber than before, and Newt led Alby to their private office. 

"So how's my mother?" Alby started once in private. They had been friends long enough for Alby to have picked up where he had spent the night.

"Alright.." He didn't exactly know where to begin, "She loves Thomas."

"Not surprised. I'm guessing he had something to do with Ben's death."

"Yeah. Kind of..." Newt explained to him how they had gone to the Romani after the chaos of the demonstration and how Ben had followed them there and attacked Thomas. 

"So Ben somehow knew Thomas' identity and tried to kill him for it?"

"Basically. And then Jaelle intervened and sold him to the grievers for protection. Apparently they cut out his tongue before making the deal."

"Figures, that silly woman is always trying to protect me." Alby said sadly, probably imagine the experience Ben must have gone through. "And Thomas for sure doesn't know who he is?"

"Seems to be that way. He's gotten pretty excited about inciting a revolution though. But you saw that yesterday." He knew Alby was mad at him, he had to be. But he was so good at hiding those emotions. "There's something else you should know... It looks like they are finally moving on." He said in reference to Alby's family.

"Well if the grievers were close enough that they had to sell out Ben then it is probably for the best."

"You should go see them before they leave." He knew that Alby wouldn't. Romani culture dictated as such. He was as good as dead to them.

"Why did you take him there Newt?" At last some of Alby's emotional walls started to crumble, "Why didn't you talk to me first? We're supposed to be a team."

Newt wanted to cry but he couldn't. He felt cold and dead inside. "I'm don't know man. I've been so bloody stupid lately. I'm so shucking sorry." The burn of unshed tears seared behind his eyes, "He just reminds me of you when we first met. Gets me all excited to do something and next thing I know I'm running off and shucking everything up."

Before he could continue Alby was picking him up in a big embrace. "We've both been shucking stupid. Thinking we could do this on our own." His large arms squeezed the tears out of Newt, "Remember when we first started. Thought we were going to change the world, we did. Got all these kids together and had them run through the streets breaking windows and spreading rumours. A lot of good that did. We've lost too many of these boys already."

"Then let's stop already. Haven't we done enough." The words, long thought, blurted out of Newt's mouth.

Alby grabed his head and looked him dead in the eye. "No we can't stop. Because then what was it all for? We need to fight on for them. So they didn't die for nothing. Besides if it's true that the grievers are getting more aggressive we are running out of time. Better do something while we still can."

"But the Romani were saying that there's drama at the castle. Wouldn't it better to at least wait until that blows over."

"Blow over to what. Rumour is that there was a murder in the castle. That there's a coup in the works. If that's the case the streets will soon be full of soldiers and war. We might never have another opportunity. If we can get ahead of this coup we can turn it to our favour and bring forth democracy once and for all."

"Ugh you're starting to sound like Thomas."

"Good then maybe you'll start to listen."

"What are we going to do about him? I don't think I trust myself not to do something stupid."

"We'll...." Alby was interupted by Minho bursting through the door. 

"Wow looks like you guys have been feeling it out in here." Minho joked at Newt and Alby's teary expressions. "Anyways you guys have got to come hear some of Thomas' ideas. He's like a printing press just pumping them out left right and centre. Speaking of which he says we need a new one. Also he suggested that we have the med-jacks open a weekly public clinic to help raise support. He's even coerced Gally to offering public democracy lessons. Don't ask me how he fanagled that one."

"Well what do you know?" Alby said referign to their previous conversation. "He really doesn't stop does he?"

"No he does not." Minho laughed, "Can we please make him a runner? I've asked you like six thousand times for more help and he's just begging to do something."

"Maybe it's time to put that energy to good use." Alby turned to him, "What do you think Newt?"

"Might as well. He's going to do stuff anyways. At least this way he'll be easier to control. Just make sure his monitored twenty-four seven."

"Well that settles it he'll be a runner." Minho cheered at Alby's decision and ran off to tell Thomas the good news. Alone with Alby, Newt had this dreading feeling that he wasn't done yet. "And you can look after him."

"Why me?" Newt lamented, "I told you he makes me stupid."

"I like it when you're stupid." Newt really hated his friend at that moment. He was hoping by making Thomas a runner he could pawn him off to Minho. That way he wouldn't have to deal with all the complicated feelings that had kept him up all night.

"Wait. How am I supposed to watch him if he's a runner. My leg is all klunk. You know that."

"Hmm you can still watch him the rest of the time. And besides if Minho needs more runners we're going to have to go back into the field."

"What you too?" Alby just smiled back. Minho and Thomas ran into the office. It really wasn't meant to hold this many people and Newt was far too close to Thomas for comfort.

"You're serious I get to be a runner?!" Thomas said gleefully practically jumping for joy.

"Yes. If..." And Alby towered over him with a serious look, "If you promise to always come to me or Newt before you do anything. No more surprise speeches okay. If you're going to stick with us you need to understand that I am in charge."

Thomas looked a little bashful at Alby's warning but he was too excited to contain himself. "Oh my god yes. Yes! Thank you thank you thank you."

"Also," Alby added, "Since you're capable of running now I think it's time we move you to a proper bed. Besides Newt deserves a rest from babysitter duty."

"Oh...cool." Thomas said before excitedly turning to Minho, "Wanna help me move in?"

"Sure! Then let's do some practice skills."

"Oh really that sounds awesome!"

They excited voices slowly disappeared from the hall. Newt felt a pang of disappointment at how fast Thomas had moved on but he was glad for the space.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Thomas sunk into his role and immediately began initiating some of his ideas. With Alby's permission of course. After a couple of days of planning and healing it had been decided that for their campaign to expand they were going to have to steal a better printing press.

The problem with that plan was that printing presses were massive and difficult to manouvre. They had decided to raid La Presse Royale as it was a royalist printer and wasn't a ridiculous distance. Minho had somehow manage to procure a decent sized wagon to transport it but they still needed people to help make the raid.

It was eventually decided that Minho, Thomas, Winston, Jeff, Clint and Alby would go. Alby had unfortunately assigned Newt the job of getaway driver.

Since they were using a wagon it, they would have to wait till night to make their raid so the streets would be clear. It would be more dangerous then as the grievers were out in full force so the strategy was to be as quick and quiet as possible. Get in, get out.

It was surprisingly easy to break into the press and the printer was located near the entrance. Minho set to work unscrewing it while the rest grabbed important supplies. 

"There is no way we are going to be able to lift this." Newt lamented as Minho loosened the last screw. 

"Oh shut up. We'll be fine." Thomas smirked.

"Yeah Newt listen to your boo." Minho smirked. He had teased him relentlessly after he had taken Thomas on a 'date'. ("It was just a night out.")

The boys all lined up along the printer and found a holding. 

"Alright guys on three." Alby instructed, "One. Two. Three."

They heaved with all their might and managed to lift it an inch above the ground. It was ridiculously heavy and Newt didn't know how long he could last. They shuffled towards the window, Thomas had broken, where the cart was lined up.

After several minutes they had managed to get half of the press onto the cart. The wood creaked under the pressure. And one of the horses let out a loud neigh.

"Aw fuck the grievers will hear this." Minho cursed.

Sure enough the metal clank of a griever's armour could be heard from a nearby street.

Everyone started to panic.

"Ok boys listen up." Alby said in a serious tone. "Minho, Thomas you come with me. We'll distract it while the rest of you get this thing out of here."

"But you'll..."

"If we don't do nothing we'll all get it." Alby turned to the others "Get the press back to the glade and win us this war. Sounds good to you?"

Minho nodded resolutely while Thomas just stared at him. "See you tomorrow partner."

Newt wanted to stop them but before he could do anything they were booking it down the street hollering towards the griever. The sounds of armour on stone got louder as the griever began its chase.

"Well come on guys push." Jeff pleaded, "I don't want to be here when this comes back."

The other three heaved and slid the press across the wagon. Newt hopped into the front and grabbed the reins.

He turned once more to where the others disappeared as deafening bangs clattered in the distance, took a deep breath, and whipped the horses into gear.

Newt might have been a terrible excuse for a Christian but that night he prayed with all his might that the others would return in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had some trouble working out the more dramatic dialogue, but I think its now in a good place.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for the support so far. Literally the only reason I keep writing is because of your wonderful support. (ok so maybe I am also writing to find out whether or not they hook up or survive or whatnot, but the support makes it totally worth it)


	7. Chapter 7

-Thomas-

Thomas stood there frozen. By this point he felt that he had a fairly good grasp on the concept of a griever but there was the concept and then there was the ominous screeching of metal heading towards them from the next street over.

Alby had directed them to run, in order to keep the griever away from the others, and Minho was already making to move. There was a certain resignation in the air as if they knew that they wouldn't all be making it out alive. Part of Thomas screamed out in his head. "How unfair! That everything should be cut short when he had just started doing something."

He stared at Newt, who was more fragile looking than ever. Their adventures from the other night flashing through his eyes. How his dance partner had soared through the air. Thomas wanted more of that. He wanted to dance with Newt again. He wanted Newt to never stop flying.

"See you tomorrow partner." He said before running after the others. A new determination roared within him; he would make it back to Newt. No matter what it took he would make sure everyone survived the night.

"Oi meatbrain!" Thomas yelled trying to draw the attention of the griever, "Over here. Come and get me!"

Minho quickly followed suit. "Come on slinthead! Catch us if you can."

The clanging of metal quickened and Alby waved them into the shadows. It was a good thing he did because within seconds the griever burst into the street.

Thomas would have screamed but the air was sucked from his lungs. He had been expecting the King's secret guard to look like some sort of powerful knight thing, but the towering form in front of him could barely be described as human. A giant suit of spike encrusted armour, nearly two stories tall clamoured around the intersection. Each step was such an intrusion to the ground that pebbles were sent leaping into air. Where a head should have been was a jutting hood of steel, that resembled a knife more than a helmet. Thomas could see where the name slinthead came from but in person it seemed less of an insult against the griever's horrendous figure. Anyone in such a suit would have been practically blind not to mention near superhuman just to move. However by far the most intimidating aspect of the griever was the massive axe it dragged behind it. The thing looked like it could level forests in minutes.

Thomas looked to Alby and Minho for some sort of guidance, but both seemed to be in awe of the griever as well. It was then that Thomas remembered that none of the gladers had seen a griever before and lived. He swallowed hard at their current prospects. 

"What do we do?" he whispered at them, trying not to draw the griever's attention. 

"Run. Hide. Try not to die. I don't shucking know greenie!" Alby hissed at him.

That drew the attention of the griever and it twirled its axe at them with surprising agility. It crashed into the building above them and the boys scattered. 

All the buildings looked the same and Thomas had no idea how to get back so he followed after Alby as Minho ducked into an alleyway. They ran till they came to a clearing. Thomas scanned for someplace to hide and spotted a sprawling gilded palace to his left. It's golden dome glistened in the moonlight and contrasted with the general squalor of the rest of the city. Thomas wondered if that is where the King lived.

Alby didn't give the building a second thought and sprinted towards the river. Thomas could see why as the griever hadn't paused in its chase and was careening into the clearing. He pushed his feet into the soft gravel and jolted after Alby.

Several more impressive buildings lined the route across the river and the opulence of this district was overwhelming. No wonder people wanted revolution.

The griever was in hot pursuit and had almost reached him by the time he reached the bridge. A gust of air blasted Thomas to the side as the axe crashed into the stone, knocking large chunks into the river below.

Alby hoisted Thomas back on his feet and pointed him in the direction of a park.

"We'll try and loose him in the trees." Alby called as he ran off. Thomas practically dived at the treeline and weaved through them before taking cover behind one. He tried to recover his breath as he heard the crushing sound of the griever reaching the edge of the road. He prayed that the griever would give up as there was no way it could fit between the tightly lined trees.

Just when he thought the griever had given up chase a loud crack broke through the night. Thomas looked behind him to see several trees crumpling to the ground. The griever swung once more and another row went crashing down. 

Thomas didn't wait for the third swing and scurried forward. The treeline eventually broke and Thomas saw Alby catching his breath by a large fountain. They were in the square from the demonstration earlier. Thomas remembered the large stone obelisk which looked to be of Egyptian origin.

He caught up to Alby and dunked his head in the fountain. All this running had set his heart on fire.

"Did you lose him?"

Another loud crack rang out and the griever burst through the park. "Unfortunately no."

They were about to continue their flight when a shout drew their attention. Sprinting for dear life across a bridge was Minho with another griever close behind. This one was just as horrifying as the first except rather than a massive axe it was swinging at Minho with two long black swords.  
"To the garden!" Alby called gesturing to Minho who quickly veered to the right through a gate. "If trees don't work we will have to try the hedgemaze." He grabbed Thomas and chased after Minho.

Once inside they split up trying to confuse the grievers in the chaos of bushes. Hopefully at least one of them would make it out.

Unfortunately six feet of bush does little to stop eight+ feet of steel and the grievers set to work chopping down everything in sight.

Rounding a bend the maze suddenly broke and Thomas was presented with a luscious garden of flowers. Exhausted from running he crawled into a bed burying himself under a small bush. He hoped the grievers would overlook such a small sapling, but luck had not been on his side this night. Peering out he saw the arc of an axe swing down and breathed a sigh of relief. The axeman was still near the entrance. 

Suddenly the edge of the hedgeline rustled as the other griever's sword cut cleanly through it. Just inches away from where Minho had apparently been hiding. He scrambled out of the remnants of the hedge and headed straight for the large building at the other end of the garden. 

He was not fast enough and the swordsman caught up quickly. Just when it looked like Minho was a goner Alby ran out from the left and clubbed the griever with a shovel setting it off balance enough for Minho to get away. 

Alby was now engaged in combat with the griever and attempted to counter its blows with his shovel. Thomas could see it buckle under the stress of each blow.

Unfortunately it was two swords to one shovel and Alby was soon overpowered. He blocked a strike aimed at his head but left his side open and the griever was able to nick his arm. Blood splattered across the flowers and Alby held in a scream. This was it, Alby was done for.

Thomas could hide no more and pounced at the griever trying to smash a rock against its iron hood. The metal spikes cut into his skin as he struggled to hold on, but the griever easily flung him off. Something had clicked in Thomas and he bounced back up grabbing Alby's shovel and smashing it at with wild ferocity. The armour clanged in response but barely a dent was made. Luckily the blows were creating enough reverberations that whoever was inside had become quite disoriented. They were struggling to fight back and flailed their swords chaotically. The shovel on the other hand could no longer handle the force and with one final blow it splintered into pieces. The griever stumble slightly and Thomas was able to knock it into the fountain where it crashed with a large splash.

Before it could reorientate itself Thomas ran to Alby and picked him onto his shoulder. Blood seeped through his shirt and trickled down his arm. With the extra weight of his leader bearing down on him he shuffled towards the building yelling for Minho to come out. At last a door opened and Minho's head popped out.

"Quick hide him in here." Minho waved him into what appeared to be an art gallery as several paintings and sculptures lay prominantly throughout the room. 

Thomas lay Alby against the wall and set to work examining the damage. There was a large gash in his shoulder that was starting to clot up a bit. The blood loss had made Alby drowsy and he was barely responding to Minho's questions. Thomas took off his shirt and used it to tie up the wound. Alby groaned as he pulled it tight.

"We've got to go." Thomas said as he turned to Minho.

"What do you mean? They'll kill us." Running for his life had made Minho distraught.

"Exactly if we stay here we are all goners. We need to lead them away from Alby. We can pick him up in the morning."

"Forget him he's a goner. I don't want to end up like that." Minho pleaded.

"Well then let's go. They are almost here." Thomas grabbed Minho and opened the door to see the grievers closing in. Immediately Minho ran around of the corner but the grievers did not follow.

"Fuck." Thomas cursed under his breath. They were after Alby. He needed to draw them away. He slipped back inside and pried a painting of the wall. It was a portrait of some aristocratic looking person. 

"Hey slintheads!" He yelled at them. "This is what I think of your king!" He kicked his foot through the painting tearing a whole in the gentleman's face. The grievers lunged forward so he threw the remains of the painting at them and ran after Minho. 

Looking behind him he saw that his stunt had done the trick and both grievers were in pursuit of him. "Haven't got me yet assholes!" He called back.

Leaving the open spaces of the gardens and palaces behind, he ducked into an alleyway to try and loose them in the maze of buildings. He dipped to the left and then turned right always choosing whichever route looked sketchiest. Leaping over a trash bin he scooted into another side street ran a block and then turned back again.

Despite how nimble he felt he could still hear the grievers which meant that they were not far behind. This was becoming problematic as his legs burned and his side was severely cramped. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold this up. 

Steeling his resolve he headed down the next street and tried to focus on his breathing. His lungs were ragged and weary but he forced them to continue. He needed to keep this up lest they catch him or head back to finish off Alby. His pace became more even and less frantic, the shock of the initial ordeal starting to leave him.

Turning the next bend he crashed into Minho abruptly haulting his rhythm. 

"Glad to see you're still alive." Thomas said out of winded breath.

"You won't be." Minho took Thomas' hand and spun him down the next corner. Thomas looked over his shoulder to see that Minho had been being chased by another griever; this time one with a mace.

"Seriously." Thomas weazed as they ran, "Where do you find these guys?"

"Shut up, you've got two!" Minho huffed, "We've woken the whole city by now. I won't be surprised if the rest don't show up soon." 

They scurried down another road and came upon the river. "How the shuck did we end up back here?" Thomas exclaimed.

"Haha easy. Haven't you been keeping track of where we are." Thomas just stared at him. How could he be attempting jokes in this scenario? "Relax you're new to the city greenie," Minho ruffled his hair playfully "Although it is quite a maze isn't it."

The mace griever appeared onto the street followed closely by the other two. Thomas and Minho quickly ended their break and sprinted towards the closest bridge. It lead to an island from which a mountainous church rose.

"I know that!" Thomas cheered finally recognizing something, "It's Notre-Dame!"

"No shit dim-wit." Minho ran ahead and began pounding on its doors. "Please help us! Sanctuary! PLEASE!" He cried banging the door with desperation. 

Thomas stayed in the square shaping up the building. It was newer looking than he remembered; the sculptures crisp and the stone rich in colour. He stared at the bell tower in confusion. He swore there was only supposed to be one of them. 

A thundering pounding behind him announced the arrival of the grievers. They would have to start running again. He took one last glance at the bell tower and noticed one of the statues move.

"Aw fuck!" He cried at Minho "Move!"

The statue leapt into the air and a fourth griever came crashing into the centre of the square. Billows of dust and chunks of cobblestone were scattered in all directions.

Thomas peeked out from their cover behind a bench. Rising from the crater, this latest griever wielded a gargantuan red hammer that rivaled a cow in size. The other three stepped forward to create a wall of steel. 

Thomas felt his resolve crash from under him. There was no way they were going to make it out of there alive. Minho however had a sudden burst of energy and dragged Thomas around the bend. They ran alongside the church till they came to a point that marked the end of the island. 

"It's a dead end... We're doomed." Thomas lamented.

"No it's not silly." Minho grinned micheaveously. "Seeing that guy make a crater out of the square I realized that there is no way that these slintheads can follow us into the water. They are way too heavy."

"Okay but I can't swim and the current looks too intense to start learning in."

"Over here." Minho lead him down a flight of stairs to the water's edge. "See there's a dock here. Quick get into a boat."

"Wait!" He called an idea forming in his head and he ran back up the stairs where the grievers were waiting and immediately lunged at him. The mace crashed into a tree while the axeblade sliced just to his left. The swordsman made for him, a tornado of blades pushing him towards the point. He dogged them waiting for the hammerman to make his move. At last the swordsman jumped back for a second only for his form to be replaced by the crushing blow of the hammer. Thomas jumped back barely holding onto his balance as the ground cracked. Several rocks came crashing down and Minho was forced to push off the dock to avoid them.

"Hurry up and jump!" Minho called but Thomas was still waiting for the right moment. When the hammer pulled back another griever stepped forward to attack. There was only enough space on the point for them to attack one at a time. This time it was the axe man and he raised he weapon to strike. However, the blow from the hammer had loosened the manmade foundations of the island which could no longer support the immense weight of the griever and the whole point slid into the river. 

It was then that Thomas leapt, trying to get as far away from the falling rocks as he could. He dove into the freezing river and was immediately whisked away by the churning waters. The axeman collided into the water with the force of a freight train sending a large wave of water crashing over Thomas.

He struggled to stay afloat as he was flipped around. A hand grabed his shirt and yanked him into a boat. He lay there coughing up water as Minho rowed away quickly. When he had regained his bearings he looked up to see the three remaining grievers staring ominously after him. The fourth was nowhere to be seen.

"You my friend are officially crazy!" Minho cheered as he rowed, "I can't believe you just killed a griever. This is mind blowing!"

"Yeah.." Thomas heaved destroyed by the trauma of the nights activities, "Let's not do that again."

They reached the other shore and Minho led them in the direction of the Glade.

"Wait we need to go get Alby before they do." Minho relented and thy scurried back to the art museum, albeit a lot less panicked than before. 

Alby was awake when they got there so Minho went to stand lookout.

"Oh thank God! You're still alive." Thomas exclaimed relief flowing over him. What would the gladers had done without their leader.

"I have you to thank for that." Alby said still weak from bloodlosss. His eyes were set to the ground. "I'm amazed you two survived the night."

"This shuckhead killed a freaking griever!" Minho called out excitedly from the door.

"You're full of surprises tonight aren't you?" Alby's voice sounded strained and weary. He pulled Thomas down and whispered in his ear. "I know who you are. We need to talk."

Thomas' heart stopped for like the bajilionith time that night. He thought back to Ben's words as he punched Thomas to the ground.

"Come on guys we should get moving." Minho urged them.

"Just give us a sec Min." Thomas said robotically, "Can you go outside for a bit."

"Ooh a nickname," Minho cooed, "Well Thomas, after tonight I feel you have officailly graduated from greenie. Ain't that right Alby?"

"Yeah yeah," Alby said dryly as the door clicked behind Minho. Once they were alone Alby's face became very serious. "Just what exactly are you doing here?"

"I am kind of hoping you could answer that. Every time someone says they know my identity nothing good happens. I'm not some kind of serial killer am I?"

"I should have noticed earlier." Alby continued, "Ben worked in the palace so that should have tipped me off."

"Just who am I god damnit!" Thomas was tired of the uncertainty, "Just tell me already." 

"You're dead." Alby said flatly.

"What do you mean?" Thomas was still confused.

"Look at that painting," Alby pointed to the large one at the end of the hall. "Does anyone their look familiar." 

Thomas scanned the painting for anything recognizable but came up with nothing. It was just a family portrait of a wealthy couple and their two kids. Their smiles looked fake and forced, especially the children who looked like they wanted to go run and play or whatever a little rich French boy and girl do. Their outfits were quite fancy and there appeared to be a crown upon the man's head.

"Is that the king?"

"Yes that's the king, his first wife and those are their children the prince and princess."

"Okay? I don't see what this has to do with me." 

Alby laughed at his ignorance. "That's you. That little munchkin whose trying to pester his sister. You're the prince."

Thomas had always expected to have a sudden moment of realization when he figured out his identity but he felt nothing.

"You're sure? Because I don't feel very princely."

"You're the spitting image of the princr. Or at least you used to be. But according to a royal proclamation yesterday his royal highness Prince Ferdinand passed away due to a unfortunate hunting accident. So technically you're dead. In fact you're funeral is next week."

"But I'm not dead soo what happened?"

"Not sure exactly, but something scandalous, hence all the increased aggression from the grievers and all the rumours going round."

"I see." Thomas had not been expecting that. He knew he was different than the others, but to be the son of their enemy, to be at the heart of all that was wrong with the country was not at all what he wanted. "If it is true that I am the prince. Then I am terribly sorry. My family is the reason the people suffer and the reason the gladers have so much sorrow. You must hate me. Here I am dumbly helping you organization fight back against all the atrocities that I created in the first place."

"Well I did hate you for the first hour after I figured it out. There is just so many awful things that you have done to me, to my family and friends. And then for you to be in the Glade this whole time." Alby was getting himself all agitated, "Arg I just wanted to sock ya. It was hard enough for me to trust you in the first place. Lost memories was just too convenient, you just had to be trouble. But Newt convinced me otherwise. Said you were special. That no one cared more than you. He better be right because you know enough that you could destroy our organization."

"I swear. I may be the prince," It felt weird on his tongue, "But I have no attachment to my former ideals. I believe in your cause. I want to help you fight for democracy." He paused trying to best articulate his thoughts. "That being said I can't excuse my past. I have done terrible things to you. How can you forgive me so quickly?

"Well for starters you saved me. Heck you saved the gladers; we were wasting away before you came. And if Newt says you believe than you believe." Thomas was stunned by Alby's candid forgiveness. All he felt was a rising guilt as the realization of his identity dawned on him "Which is why after the first hour I started thinking. Here I have the prince in my pocket. Meanwhile the rest of the country is mourning for their fallen son. Something big is going on at the palace for you to have ended up here. They probably don't even know you're alive which is why they have grievers looking for you. So I thought what a perfect opportunity, let's give them what they want."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If the whole world thinks you're dead let's use your funeral to show them that you are not. God has intervened and brought the prince back for the revolution. What better way is there to rally the people's support and catch the king off guard. We'll make a revolution out of your second coming. You feel me?"

"Do you really think the people would follow me after what I've done to them."

"Of course they will. Despite their grievances, it is hard to deny the holiness of royalty. The people will scream at your name. And besides if the rally is any indication you are a natural public speaker. So .. Your Highness, will you join me in my crusade."

"Of course! Anything to make up for what I've done. But please don't call me that. Thomas is fine."

He didn't want to be reminded of his patronage. He was already sick to his stomach with guilt. All his speeches and passion felt hollow against this new realization. He desperately wanted to anything to make it right.

"Good. Although I would have forced you to do it otherwise. So don't fuck this up. If you double-cross me I will not hesitate to kill you. There is more than one way to use a prince." 

"Don't worry. I'm on your side."

Thomas couldn't believe that his former life could have felt otherwise. After the suffering he had seen in the streets and on the faces of his friends the life of a prince was unfathomable. Newt especially carried a deep pain in his body, there was a constant darkness to his expression, even when he smiled. It haunted Thomas to know that he was responsible for that. How could he ever talk to them again.

"It's a plan then. Now let's keep this between us. I don't think many of the others will take lightly to you being the prince. Ben understandably flipped when he found out. We'll have to find a way to ease them in."

"Agreed." Thomas thought to how much anger Ben had felt towards him. Would the others react sumilarily? What about Newt? How was he supposed to ease Newt into this? Thomas did not want to cause him any more pain. He hoped Newt had made it back safely. Thomas couldn't live without his dance partner. "Now let's get you home. Are you good to walk?"

Thomas helped Alby up and between Minho and him they were able to help carry Alby all the way back. Just as they reached the door to the Glade the sun began to rise casting a pink glow on the city. Thomas wasn't sure how to process his newfound identity, but Alby's plan had given him hope that he could change things for the better.

They opened the door to a room full of people and an extremely distraught Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just edited chapter 6 and 7. This chapter was a bitch to write. So much action. I actually had to design a map of Paris on google maps just to get the route set straight. Hopefully I will get the next chapter done tomorrow. Things are certainly starting to hear up. I aiming to post every other day from now on. Although this weekend us thanksgiving (yay Canada) so please be forgiving as my plans might go awry. Thanks for your support!


	8. Chapter 8

-Newt-

As soon as Newt had made it back to the Glade he crumpled in defeat. There were swarms of gladers rushing all around him heaving the printing press off of the wagon, bringing in the stolen supplies and hiding the evidence. No one said a word to him and there was no mention of the three who were missing. Everyone knew the risk of the operation but that didn’t stop Newt from feeling like his heart had been ripped out. 

Alby was his closest friend, the one who had picked him off the street and carried him to safety, time and again. Minho had just always been there with a laugh and a helping hand. And Thomas… well Thomas was another matter entirely. But they were all gone now; torn away by their selflessness and pride. Reduced to phantom faces in his memories. 

“See you tomorrow, partner.” What the fuck was that supposed to mean. “Hehe I’m going to get myself killed so please cling on to my voice and this promise for the rest of all time as you slowly descend into insanity …. Fuckilty fuck fuck!”

His body shook as he struggled to breathe. Someone put a blanket around him and sat him in the corner but he kept coughing as the realization came crashing down. They were never coming back. Never running again, never talking again, never dancing again. There was no bloody tomorrow. Those fucking assholes! An intolerable chill set in his gut, numbing his core and sending shivers through his bones. He was in shock. He needed to start breathing again but a familiar darkness raised its head and dragged him further into the deep. 

Why did they have to be the brave ones? Sacrificing their lives for him? Everyone knew he was fucking useless. With his bloody leg he wouldn’t get very far. They would all be dead in seconds if he was in charge. They didn’t even need a printer really. And yet Thomas had them rushing to give their lives up for it. For him. For a worthless piece of shit. 

The numbness reached his face and he was falling, falling like a dead leaf from a tree. Like those scorned from heaven plummet towards Tatarus. Like he did all those years ago. The sudden impact forcing the air back into his lungs. 

Chuck was in front of him fluttering in and out of focus. “They are going to come back. It will be okay.”

What the fuck did Chuck know about this? He was a child. He wasn’t there when the ominous screech of metal rang into the night. He wasn’t the one splayed in the dirt as the clouds rolled above. A sharp pang in his leg caused him to gasp and his head became faint.

“Newt you’re safe here, but you’re in shock.” Jeff said from his left. How long had they been watching him? “I need you to breathe, alright, nice and slow. In through the nose and out through the mouth.”

Newt pushed the air into the void inside. The darkness burned from his view and he saw a wall of people looking at him. Their eyes bled fear as they struggled against the onslaught of uncertainty, begging Newt to guide them. 

“I… I can’t do this.” He wheezed.

“You’re doing fine Newt. You’re breathing is steadying up nice.”

“No. I mean I can’t do this.” He gestured at the rest of the room anxiously awaiting his response, “I can’t lead them. I can’t lead this revolution. I can’t even keep my best friends alive. Without them I’m worthless. I mean look at me. I’m just a..”

“Slim it!” Chuck exclaimed tears welling up his eyes. “They’re coming back, so stop worrying already. They’re coming back.”

“They’re not coming back! These are grievers we’re talking about. They’re not human.”

“I said they are coming back. So shut up and do your job!” Chuck yelled at him.  
Newt wanted to retort but the boy was so earnest it sucked the words out of his mouth. At last he responded, “How do you know that?”

“I know it because Alby’s our leader, Minho’s our best and Thomas’ our hope. They’re coming back because we need them too. Because if they didn’t than there never really was any hope in the first place and I just can’t accept that God is that cruel.” The room clung to the boy’s impassioned words. “Now until they do we need you, so stop freaking out. Please?”

“What am I good for?” 

“Everything. You’re the glue that holds us together. Without you, Gally’s sure to get in a fight or do something stupid. So will you please stop your worrying and lead us.”

“Man you’re a good kid Chuck. You’ll make an excellent leader someday.” Newt wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up. “Guess it’s time I started acting like one too eh?” 

He turned to address the rest of the gladers, who were on the verge of collapse themselves. “Alright everyone. I’m sure all of you have noticed that we are missing certain key players after tonight’s raid. You might be thinking ‘What the bloody hell are we going to do now’? I can certainly sympathize with that sentiment. Rest assured we’re still going to plan this damn revolution. We’re gladers, are we not? We’re here to change the world. And to anyone who says otherwise. They can take tonight as a giant middle finger up the arse. We just stole a bloody printing press. Do you know how heavy that klunk is? Our brethren just risked their lives to get it. If we didn’t do something with it, it would be a slap in their face. When the grievers reared their nasty heads, they didn’t hesitate a second to do something about it; to put their life on the line for our cause. And neither will we. If you’re not ready to do the same than you might as bloody well leave, because clearly you’re not built to be a glader. We’re built to eat bullets and shiet nails. So until our brothers come back to us, because they are coming back, lets show them that we’re worth dying for. Let’s kick this revolution into high gear!”

They was no applause to Newt’s speech. Everyone was still in a state of shock and grief. But their faces were more resolute. Their fear drawn together to resemble something akin to hope, perhaps nigh hysterical. Because what they were getting themselves into was nothing short of insane. Newt’s words had called them to action and they instantly began planning their next move. If only Newt had believed them himself.

To strung to sleep the planning went on through the night. Rumours were discussed, maps were drawn and a course was set centred around the funeral of the late prince. It was rather exciting stuff, but Newt couldn’t help himself from glancing at the door every couple of seconds.

When the handle began to turn, he all but burst at the door. When it flung open to reveal his friends alive and well, a torrent of relief crashed through him and he struggled to stand. The rest of the room erupted into celebration and people were running to greet the survivors.

Newt was speechless. His friends were alive. Sweaty, dirty and shirtless (Thomas), but alive. They had descended into the darkness and God had sent his angel to draw them back up. It was a sign that hope wasn’t lost from the world. A sign that God hadn’t forgotten them.

It was then that Newt noticed that Alby was being supported by the other two and was covered in blood. He rushed forward to do something, his voice still lost.

Thomas noticed his concern and spoke up, “He’s okay. It’s going to be alright.”

Thomas’ words stopped him in his tracks and cradled him in their supportive embrace.

Minho began pushing through the crowd. “Oi move it people. We need a med-jack already. Heroes of the night coming through.”

Alby finally spoke, “Relax Minho, I’m fine.” His voice was weary but his eyes flickered open.

They locked eyes and Newt jumped on Alby, squeezing away the night’s anxieties.

“Oh thank God! I was so worried I lost you.”

“I’m glad to see you too,” Alby winced in pain, “But if you don’t get off me soon Thomas will have saved me for nothing.” 

Newt quickly jumped back embarrassed and looked at Thomas. His face was covered in sweat and grime and he looked exhausted as if he had run away years of his life.

“You did this?”

“Told you I’d make it back.” Thomas grinned mischievously. 

At that moment it became real and his anxieties dissipated. A surge of joy flooded through Newt and before he realized it he had locked Thomas in a big embrace, their lips crashing together like the church bells that were resounding through the streets, signalling the breaking of the dawn and the return of light to the world.

His friends were really back. Somehow they had survived. A deep happiness coursed through him, the likes of which he had not felt since he was a child. He didn’t know how to contain such energy so he tried to pass it off to Thomas. His fingers kneaded their way into the electrifying warmth of Thomas’ skin while his lips urged the kiss deeper. Thomas had to be an angel or something because he kept filling the darkness of Newt’s life with brilliant light and hope. He wanted to surrender himself to that light, to throw away his burdens and never come back down.

It was then that he realized what he was doing and he quickly pushed a stunned Thomas away. The rest of the room was staring at him causing his pale skin to go beet red. There were expressions of confusion, suprise and disgust leaving Newt feeling naked and disected. Not knowing what to do with himself he replaced Thomas’ spot under Alby and hurried his friend to a private room.

“Well come on then Jeff we haven’t got all day.” He called behind him quickly slamming the door to put more distance between himself and Thomas. Between himself and the judgment of his peers.

“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Alby grunted as Newt helped him sit.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dying?” Newt said dropping Alby with a thud.

Before Alby could prod him more Jeff slipped in and rushed to his side. “Amazing! I can't believe you made it through the night. How did you even survive a griever?”

“Well as you’re about to see doc, barely.” Alby began to unravel Thomas’ shirt from his shoulder, wincing as he did so.

“Here let me hel-OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU ALIVE THAT’ DISGUSTING!” Jeff exclaimed in horror.

Newt leaned in to see better. Alby’s shoulder was ripped open and was covered in a thick black ooze. The surrounding flesh was swollen and red. Jeff immediately set to work cleaning it.

“Hand me my kit, will ya Newt?” He hollered eyes not leaving his work. 

Newt did so and Jeff began to rummage furiously inside. He pulled out an intimidating needle and carefully set to work stitching the gash.

“Sooo care to explain what that was about?” Alby asked.

“Really do we have to do this?” Newt wasn’t ready for this conversation. He had hardly processed everyone’s return let alone whatever it was that was happening with Thomas.

“Seeing as a sword is currently being threaded through my arm you have the obligation to distract me.”

Newt sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. “You know I can’t do this stuff without you. I try and do that self-empowerment stuff Jaelle taught me but as soon as you guys were gone I was back on that wall.”

“You don’t need to be so hard on yourself. Given the circumstances I’m surprised the building didn’t get trashed. Under your leadership it everyone seems like they’ve been busy at work.”

Newt rubbed his face in his hands. “You don’t understand how happy I am now that your back.” He looked up at the ceiling drawing patterns in the wood. “I can breathe again. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Don’t worry I won’t” Alby said as Jeff pulled the string tight. He always had such self-control that the pain barely showed in his voice let alone his face.

Newt locked eyes with him. This was important. “No I’m serious. Stop being brave on my behalf. I need to be the brave one sometimes too.”

“So does that mean you and Thomas? Because as much as I want you to spread your wings, you've been down this road before and it led no where good. Move on for your own sake. Don't give the world reason to hurt you more than it already has.”

"Trust me, I have no intention of reliving that again. I’ll deal with it.” He stood up and made for the door. “Now if you don’t mind I’ve been up all night worrying about your sorry ass so I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Yeah sleep definitely sounds good right now.”

The weariness of the night had swept the rest of the Glade and Newt was able to sneak back to his room unnoticed. His body was so worn by the turmoil of the night that he practically floated to his bed. 

As he lay there drifting to sleep he knew that something had changed in him that day. That ball of darkness that he had lugged around for years had finally relented. And in it's place grew something new, its exact qualities Newt was still figuring out but it burned like a small flame, warm and bright. And that was such a comfort that he fell asleep smiling like a babe on Christmas eve.


	9. Chapter 9

-Thomas-

Thomas spent the next week doing his best not to deal with it. He thought he could do this. Just take Newt aside and calmly explain that ‘Hey I’m the prince’. Hopefully, he would be as understanding as Alby but Thomas was ready to deal with Newt’s hatred and pain. It was only appropriate given his royal legacy. 

But then Newt had kissed him. And he had kissed back. Well kind of, he was pretty shocked by the ordeal. Needless to say, there was something there, and Thomas wanted it so bad. Which made telling Newt the truth seem like a bigger and bigger obstacle.

He had known for a while now that he was drawn to Newt. The other’s dour demeanor masked a gentleness and vulnerability that Thomas just wanted to cradle. And that laugh, so innocent and pure that it made Thomas’ legs melt the rare times that it escaped through Newt’s prison. 

That night when they were free from the maze of the city and Thomas had coaxed Newt out of his shell, that pull he felt had erupted into something more. He had tried to show Newt , but that moment was lost and Thomas thought that door had closed for good. With the way newt avoided him in that night's wake he thought for sure that the other didn’t share his feelings. Which made their kiss all the more surprising, as it meant there was hope. That there was something possible between them. 

He wanted that life, one spent with Newt, more than anything. But if he confessed his patronage and Newt couldn’t forgive him, that would be unbearable. And yet, to keep up this farce was just cruel, especially since his funeral was fast approaching and soon everyone would know one way or another. Hence, why he had been actively avoiding Newt all week? Until he figured out how best to tell him, he didn’t want to risk fucking things up.

Time was running out as the day was almost upon them. The gladers were in full swing. Alby’s secret plan went over well with everone as they had already begun planning an attack on the funeral in their absence. The secret part just got everyone even more excited as it made it seem like something big was going to happen. If only they knew just how big. Thomas really didn’t want to hurt anyone with his reveal, but there was nothing he could do, the revolution was nigh.

All throughout the city people were buzzing with anticipation. The death of the prince had created a national outrage but rather than fueling support for the King like many had suspected, a recent hike in the bread tax had turned sympathy to scorn. 

With their new printing press, they capitalized on this energy and sent waves of educational materials throughout the city trying to push it towards democracy. It also helped that their nighttime escapades had created quite a stir and news that the Gladers had killed a griever had set hearts ablaze. An infectious hope spread through the people and it didn’t look like anything could stop it.

In response the grievers had become even more vicious; raiding buildings and slaughtering anyone who seemed resistant. Even the city guard had become more aggressive. However, these moves only served to fuel the people’s anger. The Gladers had to be more careful though and there were talks of relocating to a different building.

Thomas spent his time locked in the printing room, developing new flyers on the virtues of democracy in easy to read points. Newt tried to talk to him on several occasions but every time he would say ‘Sorry, I have to go speak with Alby about the plan’. Thomas thought Newt would be frustrated about being kept in the dark, but he had responded with surprising grace. A new aura had set to his features and he seemed a lot more cheery and driven than before, which made the idea of talking to him even worse.

There was a knock at the door and Thomas knew it was Newt.

“Oh sorry, I’m working on something for the plan.” He bluffed, “Can you come another time?

“I know you’re avoiding me.” Newt said from the other side of the door. “Can we talk? Please?”

Thomas relented. He knew he had to deal with this eventually, he just really wanted to hold onto the dream that something could happen between them a little longer.

He opened the door to reveal a sheepish looking Newt. “Hey..”

“Hey..” Newt replied. A long period of silence grated against his ears. 

“So what do you want? Or are you just here to stare awkwardly at my handsome features?” Newt blushed which sent songbirds through his stomach.

“We need to talk.” Newt tried to compose himself. “But not here. Can I take you somewhere? There is something I want to show you.”

Thomas didn’t want to leave the safety of his workspace but he had to face reality at some point. “Okay sure, let’s do this, partner.”

Newt led him through the city along a route that was starting to become familiar. They walked in silence, a fog of tension between them. The apprehension almost suffocating him as he steeled himself for his confession.

They approached the outer wall that led to the Romani encampment. It looked less domineering in the daylight but still towered over the city blocking it from the freedom outside.

“Are we visiting Jaelle?” He asked.

Newt shook his head, “No they’re long gone.” Instead they took a sharp left and Newt pulled him to the side. “We’re going this way.”

They ducked into a side alley and came upon a ladder that led up the wall. Newt deftly scampered up like it was his second nature, whilst Thomas hesitated. It wasn’t that he was necessarily afraid of heigths but the worn condition of the ladder did not inspire much faith. He ascended slowly, careful to spread his weight as he did so. It creaked like a lady way past her years but it held and he made it to the top unscathed.

Newt was there waiting for him smiling at his misery. The wind brushed through his hair and the sun glistened across each golden strand. Thomas wanted to consume him but the gravity in his heart held him back.

“Well come on now. Stand up. You’re missing the view.” Newt offered his hand, his face glowing with light.

Thomas tentatively accepted and let Newt’s slender fingers draw him up. The space was intimidating and he clung to Newt for balance. The view on the other hand, was breathtaking. Rolling plains of grain stretched forth from the city and tendrils of forest framed their boundaries. The Seine wound lazily through them and villages sparsely peppered its coast. 

“Wow this is amazing!” He exclaimed taking in the expanse. “I can see why you wanted to show me.” 

He stepped forward to get a better view and spotted the hill where Ben had attacked him. To its left a large patch of dirt was all that remained of the Romani. 

“They’re really gone?” He mumbled turning to face Newt.

“Yeah.” Newt grinned, “Things are really changing around here.”

“That’s a good thing?” Thomas was taken aback by Newt’s smile.

“Who knows for sure. I can hardly keep track of it all myself. But I think it was time for things to move on.”

“Well you’ve certainly changed. You look all... happy.” Thomas teased; uncomfortable with how at ease Newt was in comparison to him. His shoulders were all tense and yet Newt looked like a flower bending in the wind.

“Yeah. I have.” Newt twirled around. “It feels great. Like the world could end tomorrow and I’d still be okay.”

Thomas was confused. He thought this talk was going to be about what had happened, about the kiss or about the plan and how he and Alby were hiding things from him. He wasn’t expecting Newt to twirl. “Care to fill me in on your metamorphosis, partner?”

“I love you.”

“Wha..?”

“I love you and I’m not afraid to say it. Fuck the consequences.”

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond. The burden of his identity bearing down on him. He needed to tell Newt before he said anything else. “Wait. Newt I..”

But Newt was on a roll and the words came spewing from his mouth. “My whole life I knew I didn’t belong. I had different thoughts than everyone else. Different feelings. I hated myself for being so different, for not being able to be like everyone else. I was this big ugly black sheep in my family.” Newt looked away and laughed at some distant memory. “So I ran away. Came here, to France, to see if I could find someone like me. See if I could find a place where I belonged. But I just felt worse. Like there was nowhere on earth where I belonged. No one would accept someone like me. I could never be free.

Newt was pacing on top of the wall, getting dangerously close to the edge. Thomas could only stare as his friend released his story.

“I began having nightmares. In them I’d be surrounded by these giant grey walls. No matter where I went they confined me. But worse still, were these demons that would crawl from behind the walls. They would chase me through a maze of stone, trying to grab me with their claws. They stank like death and would howl the most inhumane noses imaginable. I would wake up vomiting.”

The image caused Thomas’ insides to lurch. Newt’s nightmares sounded horrifying and all too familiar.

“I tried to hold it in and just be like everyone else, but they would always burst through. I lied when I said I dropped out of school for the cause. I got kicked out for doing lewd and ungodly acts. I had just kissed a boy. I was so lonely and desperate. But of course there is no room in heaven for the outcast. Out on the streets I got really dark. Tossed around the city like a piece of trash. I can’t remember all the shit I got into. I just remember staring at the palace and wondering how the King could dine on pheasant and boar while I ate dirt. I ended up getting sick. It was such a relief. Thank heavens, the lord has finally shown me mercy and is going to end my suffering. But then I bloody well and got better. I couldn’t even waste away like a beggar.”

It had always been apparent that Newt had been through some rough circumstances. They were written in the creases round his eyes and the hesistation in his hands. But he hadn’t expected his friend to have suffered this much. He couldn’t believe how society had cast him aside for the nature of his heart. Fury burned in his bones.

“So one night I came here. Climbed up on this wall. It was stormy and I was drunk but I managed to drag myself up. I remember how the rain pelted my skin and flung me round. But when I finally toppled over the side it was so freeing; the wind welcoming me home.” 

Thomas’ mouth was agape. It pained him to know that life had brought his friend to such a point. That freedom could only be found through the possibility of ending it all.

“I met Alby that night. He picked me up off the strret, out of the dirt and grime. The Romani said that when I fell, it looked like God had sent an angel to earth. I guess they were right in the one sense as for years I’ve felt like one fallen from God. They welcomed me into their family and fixed me up. Although, I still bear the memory in my leg. I never was fully accepted into the community. I think they somehow knew why I had fallen and the Romani are very religious, too respectable a people to fully allow someone like me into their fold. When Alby left on his crusade to change the world I followed suit and have been his pathetic lackey ever since. Waiting for the day when I can finally jump again. This time for good.”

Thomas wanted to hug him but he had no idea how to comfort one against such intense experiences. “Newt… I’m so sorry. You’re..”

Newt cut him off. “No don’t worry. See I brought you here because I’m tired of running from this life. Ever since you’ve arrived I felt a kinsmanship between us, as if you somehow get me. At first, I was wary because as my life has clearly shown, good things do not happen to me. But then, you just keep breaking through my expectations. You greet the barriers of life with such hope and energy as if you’re oblivious to reality. Every time another obstacle arises you run straight at it as if there was no danger in the first place, like some blithering idiot. And yet, you somehow keep coming on top.”

“Am I supposed to take this as a compliment?” Thomas asked trying to process the onslaught of emotion Newt was dumping onto him.

“Quiet shuckface, this isn’t about you.” Newt stepped closer. “Watching you this past while has made me realize that it’s okay to hope, it’s okay to try, it’s okay to love. For the first time in ages I am free from the self-hate I have been lugging around for years. The crap that brought me up here the first time is gone. So I don’t care if society doesn’t accept me, or that Alby wants me to move on or that you very well could reject me. Because I love you Tommy and for the first time in my life I’m going to try and be brave and hope for the best.” 

He looked at Thomas, his eyes bright and pleading, “So what do you say?”

The sun peaked through the clouds and coated Newt in a heavenly glow. Despite all the darkness of his past, in that moment Newt was an angel with his halo of golden hair. Thomas carefully raised his hand and caressed his cheek, letting the radiance warm his skin. He cupped Newt’s face like a holy chalice and drank from it, softly kissing his lips. 

Newt purred in response and deepened the kiss with a reignited passion. Thomas glided his hands over Newt’s shoulders and explored his back, marveling at the canvas of scars presented to him. He pressed love into each one, which earned moans from Newt.  
The man he was embracing today was not the same one who had flown from this perch all those years ago. He was confident and brilliant and demanding. Taking mastery over Thomas’ mouth and laying siege to his body, Newt was a beast to be reckoned with. His languid form drawing pleasure from the far reaches of Thomas’ soul. 

And yet there still was a vulnerability to him. One born out of immaturity rather than weakness. There was a childlike aura to Newt’s newfound hope and Thomas feared he might crush it if he got over zealous.  
He thought about the demonstration tomorrow and the revolutions that were going to unfold upon his big reveal. After the life Newt had led, such a revelation would crush him. He had experienced too much pain on behalf of the King to love his son. There was no way he could find out about it. Not yet, not until his hope had more time to develop. At this time, he was too delicate to endure such news. If anything it would drag him back down into the darkness.

Thomas broke the kiss and gulped for air. Newt reached for more but he pulled away to speak, “Newt I love you so much.” He searched Newt’s eyes watching as his hope turn to certainty. This next part was going to kill him, “I love you. And that is why I need you to do something for me.”

Newt stepped back creating space between them which was quickly filled by the biting wind that blew at this height. There was a cautious curiosity in his voice. “And what is that exactly?”

“I need you to skip the demonstration tomorrow.” Newt’s face fell, “It’ll be too intense for you.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Newt was understandably upset, “I’m not some bloody child. I haven’t put all this work into this just to have you guys save the day without me..again.”

“It’s not like that.” Thomas needed to be careful with how he framed this. He didn’t want to lose Newt already. “The surprise me and Alby planned; its big, like hella big. It’s going to change the world for the better and make it easier for us. But it’s also going to make a lot of shit go down. People are going to die. And I can’t have you be one of them.”

“I’m a glader for god sakes. That’s what I signed up for.” Newt spat back. 

“I can’t lose you.” Thomas pleaded with him, “It will be dangerous enough for everyone else, but with your injury? How am I supposed to go on if something were to happen to you?”

Newt’s body fell but Thomas could see that he was winning him over. It pained him to see him crush Newt’s passion, but if it kept him alive and away from his big reveal it was worth it. “What will you have me do then? I’m tired of being everyone’s damsel in distress.”

“Come back here. Where it’s beautiful and free. Where you’ve overcome your past. Watch the city transform like I’ve watched you. Be the hope that I fight for and be safe so that no matter what happens tomorrow there’s still light in the world. I’ll fight my way to you so that by days end we can be together forever.” 

Newt mulled it over and lightly pounded his shoulder in frustration. “Errughh Fine. But only because I want to avoid the embarrassment of watching you guys making fools of yourselves. But..” His face made a wiked turn. “You have to promise me you won’t do anything stupid. We're just figuring this thing out. I will bloody kill you if you don’t come find me tomorrow.”

Thomas gave a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to worry about Newt during the chaos of the next day. “Of course. It will be hard enough to be separated from you all day. I’ll come crashing into your arms in no time.” Despite his relief, there were still a lot troubling his mind.  
He had a revolution to lead tomorrow and a people to inspire into action. Then there was Newt. They may love each other, but it appeared as if the world did not. Even the gladers seemed uncomfortable by their relationship. How could he keep Newt safe? If the revolution was a success would there be room for him and Newt in it? And then there was the matter of his identity. He’d have to tell Newt eventually. But would he even get the chance after tomorrow. He was the prince. A pawn in Alby’s game. Would he just move from player to player. His brain wracked over all the uncertainties left to deal with.

“Stop worrying Tommy it’s not a good look for you.’ Newt grabbed him comfortingly“Everything will be fine.”

Everything was definitely not fine but Thomas could allow himself to enjoy this moment because in it everything was wonderful. He pushed his concerns out of his mind and marvelled at the way Newt shone in his arms.

They sat down on the ledge their feet dangling above where Newt had fallen. But there was no fear this time and the only thing falling was the sun to the horizon. Their hands slowly intertwined as the sky erupted into a kaleidoscope of colour and Thomas relaxed and just soaked it in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits complete. For now.
> 
> I am sorry for the big delay. Canadian Thanksgiving is a kind of a huge deal and I got roped into a week long adventure in Ottawa. (BTW if your ever there go to Dureg on Bank Street.) Things should go back to their quicker pace now that I am back. Also the story is nearing its end. Get the popcorn and the Kleenex as it will be a wild ride. Only four more chapters to go. Maybe five. I could be convinced to throw in an epilogue to ease the pain.
> 
> I love all of you who have stuck around with me thus far. I know my story is not as exciting as smut and is teetering dangerous close to les mis levels of angst, so I am truly grateful to those of you who have given me a chance. I promise the final act will be worth the wait. I hope.


	10. Chapter 10

-Newt-

Newt could have sat on that wall with Thomas for an eternity, but with a revolution just hours away the moment was quickly lost in the excitement and anticipation. Newt reluctantly climbed off the wall, being careful to never take his eyes of Thomas.

When they returned to the Glade, they were greeted with an eerie quiet. Everyone had already retreated to their rooms in the hopeless pursuit of rest before the chaos of the next day. However, like Christmas Eve, an insatiable energy pulsed through the air and Newt doubted that many had achieved the bliss of sleep. 

Thomas immediately headed to the storage room to continue working on handouts but Newt caught his shoulder.

"Get some rest, you bloody maniac." Newt said gauging the apprehension in Thomas' eyes.

"But they're not done. It needs to be perfect What if..?" Thomas protested.

"And what if you pass out in the middle of your speech? You need sleep. Let me handle this. It's the least I can do since you're forcing me to stay behind."

Thomas frowned, "Thank you for that. I hate that I'm making you do this. You've put so much effort into the gladers. I don't want to take that away from you."

"Well there are other ways to help than parading around on the front lines. For example I can help by making sure our star performer is well rested enough to lead this revolution." 

Newt leaned forward and kissed Thomas goodnight, relishing in the taste on his lips."Now go to bed. I'll stay up and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.

"How can I go to bed when your down here? I'll want to eat you up all night." Thomas nipped at his neck.

Newt pushed him back, "You can sleep in my bed, alright. But seriously you need sleep, so go." He gave his rear a slap of encouragement causing Thomas to squeal like a pig.

"You'll come join me when you're done? Now that I have you I can't bear for us to be apart."

"Slim it lover boy. I'll be there soon enough. Off to bed you go."

Thomas reached around for one final kiss, "You're an angel, you know that?" He said and then slipped up the stairs.

Newt strutted into the storage room mumbling to himself "An angel? Now that might be a stretch.."

He glided his hand across the wooden frame of the press; feeling the course friction of the grain. A restless energy blanketed the city and Newt thrummed his fingers to its rhythm. His eyes scanned the stacks of flyers that filled the room, covered in colourful propaganda. He breathed in the overwhelming scent of freshly pressed paper, a melange of earth and ink.

It was so surreal. They were a leading a revolution tomorrow, something they had talked about for ages. Between that and Thomas it was as if his dreams were finally coming true. Filled with passion, Newt quickly set to work finishing the pamphlets.

He never made it to his bed that night. This movement had been born from him. Alby had been so frustrated about his attempted suicide that he wanted to change the world. The revolution was deeply personal and that's why Newt wanted to do as much as he could to get it ready.

Part of him also wanted to get back at Thomas. He could kiss Newt all he wanted but it didn't salve the sting of being left out. It was clear Thomas had something crazy up his sleeve that he really didn't want Newt to know. It bugged Newt that Thomas didn't trust him, but for now there wasn't much he could do about it. At least here in this storage room he could do something. Years of his life had gone into the cause and so he damn well wasn't going to sleep until he was certain that everything was set.

By the time, the gladers came bumbling down the stairs Newt had finished the flyers, alphabetized the weapons and had done inventory six times.

He slipped up to his room to find Thomas curled into an adorable ball of sleep. His face was peaceful and radiant. Newt prayed that that wouldn't change by day's end. However, he had a suspicion that Thomas wasn't aware of what he was getting himself into.

Newt was about to shake him awake when Thomas eyes popped open and an arm dragged him down causing Newt to squeal in surprise.

They wrestled around for a bit before coming to a comfortable position. Newt kneaded his face into Thomas' neck. "Thank you for doing this."

Thomas rolled him over and hugged him close. "Thank you for staying safe."

"Be careful out there."

"I will."

"No I'm serious. You better come back to me in one piece."

"Anything for my prince." Thomas said with a silly grin, but his eyes conveyed an understanding.

"It's his funeral today." Newt exclaimed, "Are you saying I'm dead?"

Thomas laughed, "I guess will find out."

The rest of the morning passed with a blur as people rushed into action. Before he knew it, Thomas had pushed him out the door with one final kiss.

"See you tonight...."

Newt grudgingly walked towards the wall. It felt weird leaving the action behind him and every step was a struggle against fate. When he reached the ladder he swallowed and slowly ascended. It was slightly cathartic coming here once more, to the spot that started it all on the day. On the day when everything was finally happening. Every step in the ladder marking his journey to this point.

About two thirds the way up Newt noticed an etching in the wall behind the ladder. Adjusting to get a better look he was able to make out a maze of lines spreading out in a circle around a square. He ran his fingers across the rough grooves that wound tightly across the wall. In the centre of the square he felt a divot and leaned in to examine. Something else was carved into the square but it had been covered with dirt and moss. Newt scratched away at it, uncovering more within the square. When he blew away the dust several small stick figures appeared and a flash of realization hit him.

It was a maze. A maze that he had carved from memory.

"Holy fuck!" He shouted, losing his balance. The ladder rattled violently as he tried to regain his holding. 

The dreams that had haunted his youth came back clearer. Except they weren't dreams were they? He had been stuck in a maze with several other boys. They were trapped in a small glade by towering mountains of stone.

The wall in front of started to feel rather constricting and he rushed to the top, heart racing. Peaking over the edge the sun blinded him and the hills surrounding Paris burned away into desolate wastes of sand.

The Scorch. That is what had greeted them once they had escaped. Once Thomas had freed them. 

Thomas had been there. And Minho and Alby. They all were. For a time. But then there was so much darkness. People had died. People had gotten sick.

Newt stared at his hands in horror; remembering the way his veins had popped and his blood had burned with the Flare. The pain was so real. There was no way these could simply be the conjurings of his mind.

He blinked and the wastes of the Scorch withered into fields, the corridors of the maze into city streets. Why was he in Paris? What was this life?

It was then that he remembered Thomas' face. The sheer terror and grief as he raised the gun. Newt could feel his voice choke out commands but it felt detached. And then it was, as the bullet snapped his life away.

He had died. Whatever life he had lived for the past twenty-odd years was some kind of heaven or hell. A falsehood constructed from the remnants of his memories. 

But he knew this already. Hence why he had carved the maze into the stone. The realization had wrecked him in his youth. Heck, it had sent him flying off this wall. Why suffer in a world without his friends? In a world without Thomas... Hadn't the maze and trials been enough suffering for one lifetime?

It was funny in a black humour kind of way. Seeing as that wasn't the first time he had jumped from a wall. Why had he expected anything to change when it didn't the first time?

 

On further thought though things had changed. He found his friends again. He found Thomas. The others may very well be figments of his imagination but Thomas was real. He had to be. He wasn't like the others. He understood. So even if this was hell or another experiment by WCKD or a cruel joke by God, things were going to be okay this time because he wasn't alone. 

Except he was alone because Thomas and the others were running off to start a revolution; one which very well could cost their life. 

"Oh Shit!" Newt yelled, realizing his foolishness. He needed to find Thomas. He couldn't be alone again.

Soaring down the ladder he crashed into the ground and he leg throbbed with pain. He sucked it up and ran because he could already hear the funeral marching its way through the town.

When he reached la Place de la Concorde there was already a massive crowd assembled. Luckily the mood was still sombre which meant he still had time. He began weaving his way through the crowd when he heard someone start shouting. It was Alby. He had climbed onto the funeral procession and was yelling commands at the audience. A rush of excitement erupted through he crowd making it difficult to hear at this distance. Gladers began rushing around handing out information and riling people up. Newt saw Gally and Minho but could see no sign of Thomas. 

"Damnit! Where is he?" Newt cursed under his breath. The city guard was moving in. Things were going to get violent soon.

It was then that the coffin flung open and the prince rose from the dead. Everyone flipped their shit at this moment and a collective scream shook the square. Amidst the chaos Newt was silent, absolutely stunned.

Thomas was the prince. He was standing there in royal attire, waving the republic flag with a smile like a madman. Calling the people to arms, throwing his crown to the masses. Thomas was the prince. THOMAS WAS THE FUCKING PRINCE!

"Bloody hell.." Newt said coming to his senses. So this was their secret. The thing that he couldn't know. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or pissed off. Had Thomas always known he was the prince? What other secrets was he hiding? Did he know about the maze? What in the world was going on?

Everyone seemed to share his sentiments and stood around not knowing how to respond to their resurrected prince. Princes didn't come back from the dead. And they definitely didn't come back as revolutionaries calling the people to arms against their own family. The city guard was stopped in their tracks completely dumbfounded over what side to pick. The laypeople on the other hand drank it up and began marching upon the palace under Thomas and Alby's orders.

Newt just let himself get dragged along by the crowd too stunned to make a move.

Of course you could only show resistance in this city for so long before the grievers showed up. And show up the did. Before anyone could make as much as ten yards towards the palace, the hulking forms of the grievers appeared from behind a roof and pounced at the crowd.

Mass hysteria ensued as people ran for their lives. The gladers trying to direct as many as possible to the barricades in the heart of the city. Others pulled out their guns and began fighting back. Despite being only three number the grievers were merciless, blasting through the crowd in the direction of Thomas. 

Newt rushed to protect him but he was too slow and Thomas was quickly caught between the swords of a griever. Thomas tried to fight back but he was like a child in the hands of the massive beast.

As quickly as the swordsman arrived he was gone running from roof to roof, till all that was left of Thomas was the echoes of his screams in Newt's ears.

Newt collapsed on the ground in disbelief over all that had just happened. The square was rapidly vacating as people ran for cover from the crushing blows of the grievers' hammer and mace. He was alone again and the world was looking darker than ever.

"What are you doing shuckface? MOVE!" Minho yelled at him as a griever moved in for the kill. Newt was despondent though and his legs refused to move. Minho dived at him and pushed him away as the hammer pummeled the ground shattering the stone into fine dust.

Minho dragged him up and sprinted them towards the barricades. "Come on you meat head. Do you want to die today?"

At the point Newt honestly didn't have an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had a cancer scare kind of. Anyways I'm healthy...I think. Doctors are not very clear.
> 
> The story's almost over so I'm committed to finish it.
> 
> Please let me know if you have any comments or concerns


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